BLOCKADED 

FRM  i LY 


N-HLHBHMK 
DVRIN©*THe 
CiVIL*  WKR 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/blockadedfamily01  hagu 


BLOCKADED  FAMILY 

b 


LIFE  IN  SOUTHERN  ALABAMA  DURING 
THE  CIVIL  WAR 


BY 

PARTHENIA  ANTOINETTE  HAGUE 


114246 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 
(3Tfe  CubnsiOe  Drrss,  EamlriDoe 
1888 


Copyright,  1888, 

By  Parthenia  Antoinette  Hague. 

All  rights  reserved . 


The  Riverside  Press , Cambridge  : 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  & Co. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Page 

Beginnings  of  the  Secession  Movement  — A 
Negro  Wedding i 

CHAPTER  II. 

Devices  rendered  necessary  by  the  Block- 
ade — How  the  South  met  a Great  Emer- 
gency   1 6 

CHAPTER  III. 

War-time  Scenes  on  an  Alabama  Plantation 
— Southern  Women  — Their  Ingenuity  and 
Courage 31 

CHAPTER  IV. 

How  Cloth  was  dyed  — How  Shoes,  Thread, 
Hats,  and  Bonnets  were  manufactured  . 45 

CHAPTER  V. 

Homespun  Dresses  — Home-made  Buttons 
and  Pasteboard  — Uncle  Ben  ...  61 


IV 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Page 


Aunt  Phillis  and  her  Domestic  Trials  — 
Knitting  around  the  Fireside  — Tramp, 
Tramp  of  the  Spinners  . . . 76 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Weaving  Heavy  Cloth  — Expensive  Prints  — 

“ Blood  will  tell  ” 89 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Substitutes  for  Coffee  — Raspberry-leaf  Tea 

— Home-made  Starch,  Putty,  and  Cement 

— Spinning  Bees 101 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Old-time  Hoopskirts  — How  the  Slaves  lived 

— Their  Barbecues 113 

CHAPTER  X. 

Painful  Realities  of  Civil  Strife  — Strait- 
ened Condition  of  the  South  — Treatment 
of  Prisoners 125 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Homespun  Weddings  — A Pathetic  Incident 

— Approach  of  the  Northern  Army  . . 137 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Pillage  and  Plunder  — “ Papa’s  Fine  Stock  ” 

— The  South  overrun  by  Soldiers  . 154 


CONTENTS. 


V 


Page 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Return  of  the  Vanquished  — Poverty  of  the 
Confederates 164 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Repairing  Damages  — A Mother  made  Happy 
— Conclusion 170 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


I. 

On  a glorious  sunshiny  morning  in  the 
early  summer  of  1 86 1 I was  on  my  way  to 
the  school-house  on  the  plantation  of  a 
gentleman  who  lived  near  Eufaula,  Ala- 
bama, and  in  whose  service  I remained 
during  the  period  of  the  war. 

As  I was  nearing  the  little  school-room 
on  a rising  knoll,  all  shaded  with  great 
oaks  and  sentineled  with  tall  pines,  I heard 
skipping  feet  behind  me,  and  one  of  my 
scholars  exclaiming,  “ Here  is  a letter  for 

you,  Miss  A ! It  has  just  been  brought 

from  the  office  by  ‘ Ed  ’ ” — the  negro  boy 
who  was  sent  every  morning  for  the  mail. 

A glance  at  the  handwriting  gave  me  to 
know  it  was  from  my  father.  I soon  came 
to  a pause  in  the  school  path : for  my 
father  wrote  that  my  brothers  were  pre- 
paring to  start  for  Richmond,  Virginia,  as 


2 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


soldiers  of  our  new  formed  Southern  Con- 
federacy. As  he  wished  to  have  all  his  chil- 
dren united  under  his  roof,  before  the  boys 
went  away,  my  father  earnestly  desired  me 
to  ask  leave  of  absence  for  a few  days,  so 
that  I might  join  the  home  circle  also. 

The  suspending  of  the  school  was  easily 
arranged,  and  I was  soon  at  home  assist- 
ing in  preparing  my  brothers  for  military 
service,  little  dreaming  they  were  about  to 
enter  into  a four-years’  conflict ! 

But  oh,  how  clearly  even  now  I read 
every  milestone  of  that  convulsed  period, 
as  I look  back  upon  it  after  a quarter  of  a 
century  ! Our  soldiers,  in  their  new  gray 
uniforms,  all  aglow  with  fiery  patriotism, 
fearing  ere  they  should  join  battle  that  the 
last  booming  cannon  would  have  ceased  to 
reverberate  among  the  mountains,  hills,  and 
valleys  of  “ Old  Virginia.”  The  blue  cock- 
ades streaming  in  the  wind,  while  Southern 
songs,  inspirations  of  the  moment,  were 
heard  on  all  sides  : “ We  conquer  or  die,” 
and  “ Farewell  to  Brother  Jonathan,”  lead- 
ing with  fervent  ardor. 

While  the  war  was  in  progress,  it  so 
happened  that  I was  far  removed  from  the 
seaboard  and  border  States,  in  southern 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  3 

Alabama,  where  our  people,  encompassed 
and  blockaded  by  the  Federal  forces,  were 
most  sadly  straitened  and  distressed.  It 
is  of  the  exigencies  of  that  stormy  day, 
as  hydra-headed  they  rose  to  view,  that  I 
have  to  write  ; of  the  many  expedients  to 
which  we  were  reduced  on  our  ever-nar- 
rowing territory,  daily  growing  not  only 
smaller,  but  less  and  less  adequate  for  the 
sustenance  of  ourselves,  our  soldiers,  and 
the  Northern  prisoners  who  were  cast 
upon  us  by  the  fortunes  of  war. 

Blame  us  not  too  severely,  you  who 
fought  on  the  Union  side  ; we,  too,  loved 
the  Union  our  great  and  good  Washington 
bequeathed  us  : with  what  deep  devotion 
God  knoweth.  But,  as  Satan  sagely  re- 
marks in  the  Book  of  Job,  “all  that  a man 
hath  will  he  give  for  his  life.”  Also  a 
writer  of  profane  history  has  truly  said 
that  “a  man’s  family  is  the  nearest  piece 
of  his  country,  and  the  dearest  one.”  Need 
there  be  any  wonder  that,  when  a political 
party,  with  no  love  in  its  heart  for  the 
Southern  white  people,  came  into  power,  a 
party  which  we  believed  felt  that  the  people 
of  the  South  were  fit  only  for  the  pikes 
hidden  at  Harper’s  Ferry,  we  should  have 


4 A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

cried  out,  “ What  part  have  we  in  David  ? 
to  your  tents,  O Israel.”  It  is  cheering 
to  know  that  our  deeds  and  intentions  have 
one  great  Judge,  who  will  say,  “Neither 
do  I condemn  thee.” 

I well  remember  the  day  when  word  came 
with  lightning  speed  over  the  wires,  “The 
State  of  Georgia” — my  native  State, 
one  of  the  original  thirteen  of  revolution- 
ary fame  — “ is  out  of  the  Union.”  I also 
remember  that  we  were  by  no  means  elated 
at  the  thought  that  our  own  noble  common- 
wealth had  seceded  from  the  sisterhood  of 
states.  Feelings  of  sadness,  rather,  some- 
what akin  to  those  of  the  Peri  outside 
the  gate  of  Paradise,  overcame  us,  but  we 
thought  and  said,  Come  weal  or  woe,  suc- 
cess or  adversity,  we  will  willingly  go  down 
or  rise  with  the  cause  we  have  embraced. 
And  at  that  moment  an  unpleasant  recol- 
lection rushed  to  mind,  which  caused  me 
to  think  that  perhaps,  after  all,  secession 
was  not  so  very  bad.  I remembered  a 
temperance  lecturer  from  one  of  the  New 
England  States,  who  came  to  our  settlement 
and  who  was  kindly  received  and  warmly 
welcomed  in  our  Southern  homes.  There 
was  nothing  too  good  for  this  temperance 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  5 

lecturer  from  the  far  North.  He  was  given 
earnest  and  attentive  audiences,  with  never 
a thought  that  in  the  guise  of  the  temper- 
ance reformer  his  one  sole  purpose  was 
to  make  a secret  survey  of  our  county,  to 
ascertain  which  settlements  were  most 
densely  populated  with  slaves,  for  the  al- 
ready maturing  uprising  of  the  blacks 
against  the  whites. 

After  the  failure  of  the  insurrection  at 
Harper’s  Ferry,  we  saw  with  sorrow  deep- 
felt  that  the  three  places  in  our  own 
county  which  were  known  to  all  too  well 
to  be  most  thickly  peopled  with  slaves 
were  marked  on  John  Brown’s  map  of 
blood  and  massacre,  as  the  first  spots  for 
the  negro  uprising  for  the  extermination 
of  the  Southern  whites. 

When  my  brothers  had  left  for  Virginia, 
I started  again  for  southern  Alabama,  to  re- 
new my  school  duties.  As  the  train  sped 
onward  through  the  tall,  long-leaved  pines 
and  funereal  cypress-trees  rising  here  and 
there  on  either  side,  a feeling  of  homesick 
desolation  gathered  as  a thick  mist  around 
me,  with  vague  and  undefined  forebodings 
of  sorrows  in  store  for  us. 

To  add  to  the  depression,  clouds  dark 


6 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


and  lowering  were  slowly  looming  up  and 
spreading  themselves  over  the  nether 
heavens,  while  low  and  distant  thunder  dy- 
ing plaintively  away  seemed  never  before 
to  have  fallen  so  mournfully  on  my  ear. 
As  I looked  from  the  window  of  the  speed- 
ing train  to  the  dark  green  gloom  of  the 
almost  unbroken  forest,  the  low  wail  of  the 
wind  in  the  tops  of  the  pines,  the  lowering 
dark  clouds  dimly  outlined  through  the 
shaded  vista,  pressed  down  my  heart  as 
with  a great  sorrow  ; the  far-away  mutter- 
ings  of  thunder,  the  low  moan  of  the 
wind  as  it  rocked  to  and  fro  the  tops  of 
the  pines,  came  to  me  as  the  Banshee’s 
lonely  wail.  All  seemed  to  presage  some 
dire  affliction.  Could  it  be  that  my  father’s 
household  had  joined  together  for  the  last 
time  in  their  earthly  home  ? Poe’s  ghastly, 
grim,  and  ancient  raven  seemed  to  speak 
the  “ Nevermore  ; ” and,  alas  ! nevermore 
did  we  children  of  that  happy  circle  ever 
meet  again. 

As  the  train  gathered  itself  up  in  the 
village  of  Hurtville,  the  inky  black  clouds, 
flashes  of  almost  blinding  lightning,  and 
heavy  peals  of  rolling  thunder  told  that 
the  tempest  was  unchained. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  7 

I still  had  a distance  of  fourteen  or 
fifteen  miles  to  travel  by  the  hack  before 
I should  reach  my  school.  But  as  the 
storm  began  to  increase  so  much  in  vio- 
lence, I deemed  it  advisable  to  remain  in 
Hurtville  for  the  night.  On  inquiring  for 
a place  to  stop  at  for  the  night  I was  di- 
rected to  Mrs.  Hurt,  whose  spacious  man- 
sion and  large  and  beautiful  flower  yard 
and 'grounds  stood  fair  to  view  from  the 
little  village  depot. 

Hitherto  I had  passed  the  village  by,  in 
my  trips  home  and  back  to  school  again 
during  my  vacation  days,  so  that  I was  al- 
together a stranger  in  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Hurt,  but  on  making  her  acquaintance  was 
pleased  to  find  her  most  kind  and  gener- 
ous. My  quiet  satisfaction  was  further  aug- 
mented by  a loved  school  companion  step- 
ping into  the  room  most  unexpectedly,  ere 
I had  been  seated  half  an  hour.  It  was 
a glad  surprise  for  both.  Her  father  and 
mother  lived  in  the  village,  and  as  the  vio- 
lent wind  and  rain  storm  had  made  roads 
and  bridges  impassable  for  the  time  being, 
I accepted  the  invitation  of  my  friend  to 
spend  the  time  of  my  detention  with  her. 

One  pleasing  episode  of  that  visit  yet 


8 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


clings  to  memory.  It  so  happened  that 
one  of  the  negro  girls  of  the  house  was  to 
be  married  the  very  week  I was  detained. 
Preparations  in  various  ways  had  been 
making  for  several  days  before  the  cele- 
bration of  the  ceremony.  Dear  Winnie,  if 
still  a sojourner  here,  and  you  chance  to 
see  these  lines,  I know  your  memory  with 
mine  will  turn  back  on  the  wheels  of  time 
to  that  afternoon,  when  we  were  seated  on 
the  colonnade  of  your  father’s  house.  With 
flowers  scattered  all  around,  our  laps  and 
hands  full,  we  twined  the  wreath  for  the 
negro  girl,  the  bride  elect  for  the  evening. 
When  twilight  had  deepened  into  darkness, 
the  bride  was  called  into  your  room  to 
make  ready  for  the  marriage.  When  fully 
robed  in  her  wedding  garment,  she  was 
inspected  by  each  and  every  member  of 
the  household,  and  judged  to  be  quite  cm 
fait.  But  Winnie  pulled  off  her  own  watch 
and  chain,  together  with  her  bracelets, 
and  with  these  further  adorned  the  bride. 
She  was  married  in  the  wide  hall  of  her 
master’s  house,  for  having  been  raised  in 
the  house  almost  from  her  cradle,  her  mar- 
riage taking  place  in  one  of  the  cabins  was 
not  to  be  thought  of. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  9 

Directly  under  the  supervision  of  the 
mistress  of  the  house,  a supper  that  would 
have  been  pleasing  to  the  taste  of  an  epi- 
cure was  served  on  tables  placed  out  in 
the  smooth  gravelly  yard.  Then  after  the 
feasting  was  over,  a round  of  merry  plays, 
interspersed  with  the  merrier  songs  and 
dance,  followed.  Perhaps  no  happier  be- 
ings existed  that  night.  It  was  like  a vi- 
sion of  fairy-land.  The  full  moon  chosen 
for  the  occasion  rode  in  silent  majesty 
across  the  star-gemmed  heavens  ; fleecy 
white  clouds  flitted  like  shadowy  phantoms 
across  its  silvery  path  ; the  dark  pines,  half 
in  shadow,  half  in  sheen,  loomed  vast  and 
giant-like  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village. 
In  the  deeper  forest  could  be  heard  the 
weird  notes  of  the  whip-poor-wills.  The 
pleasing  strains  of  the  violin,  the  thrum- 
ming of  the  banjo,  accompanied  by  many 
negro  voices,  awoke  the  sleeping  echoes. 
From  the  front  colonnade,  before  us  lay 
the  slumbering  village  all  so  quietly  under 
the  starry  firmament.  We  listened  there 
to  the  mellow  peals  of  negro  laughter,  to 
their  strange  songs,  mingling  with  the 
strains  of  the  violin,  and  the  low  breathing 
of  the  night  wind  in  the  forest. 


IO 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


As  we  roam  back  in  the  past,  events  of 
earlier  days  rise  in  bright  view  to  mind  ; 
one  link  in  memory’s  chain  runs  into  an- 
other. I cannot  forbear  here  referring  to 
an  incident  which  occurred  a few  years 
before  the  civil  war.  There  came  to  our 
settlement  from  the  North,  three  cultured, 
refined,  and  educated  ladies  as  school- 
teachers. Their  first  Sabbath  of  worship  in 
the  South  was  at  the  Mount  Olive  Baptist 
church,  in  Harris  County,  Georgia.  The 
pastor  of  the  church,  for  some  unknown 
cause,  failed  to  appear  at  the  hour  ap- 
pointed for  service.  We  waited  for  some 
time  and  still  no  preacher.  Then  the 
good  old  deacon,  known  by  all  as  “ Uncle 
Billy  ” Moore,  who  had  lived  by  reason  of 
strength  beyond  the  allotted  threescore 
and  ten,  arose,  and  said,  as  the  hour  for 
service  was  passing,  as  the  minister’s  ar- 
rival seemed  doubtful,  and  as  the  congre- 
gation had  all  assembled,  he  would  suggest 
that  Uncle  Sol  Mitchell,  an  old  and  hon- 
ored negro,  preach  for  us,  as  he  was  pres- 
ent, and  a member  and  preacher  in  good 
standing  in  the  Mount  Olive  church. 
There  was  not  even  a shadow  of  an  objec- 
tion to  the  negro  slave’s  occupying  the  pul- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


II 


pit,  as  our  friends  from  the  far  North  were 
witness.  Ah,  friends  of  the  Green  Moun- 
tain and  Bay  State,  you  will,  if  yet  in  the 
flesh,  remember  with  me  that  Sabbath  so 
long  ago  in  the  South,  when  the  negro 
slave  walked  up  to  the  pulpit,  opened  the 
hymn-book,  and  announced  the  old  sacred 
song : 

“ When  I can  read  my  title  clear. 

To  mansions  in  the  skies.” 

I remember  how  loudly  my  dear  father 
tried  to  sing — though  only  a poor  singer 
— just  because  Uncle  Sol  was  going  to 
preach  ; how  Sol  gave  the  verses  out  by 
couplets  to  be  sung,  as  was  the  custom 
then  in  the  country.  All  joined  in  sing- 
ing that  sacred  song,  and  bowed  the  knee 
when  Uncle  Sol  said,  “ Let  us  pray.”  I 
am  very  sure  I have  never  knelt  with  more 
humble  devotion  and  reverence  than  on 
that  Sabbath  morning. 

Roads  and  bridges  having  been  made 
passable  after  the  storm,  I said  the 
“ Good-by  ” to  the  friends  I had  found  in 
the  pleasant  country  village,  and  resumed 
my  journey. 

It  was  a pleasing  ride  that  balmy  sum- 
mer morning,  ennobling  to  the  soul,  as 


12 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


nature’s  great  book  unrolled  its  series  of 
beautiful  scenes.  Far  in  the  azure  blue  the 
great  white  banks  of  clouds  seemed  to  lie 
at  anchor,  so  slow  of  sail  were  they  ; the 
gloom  of  the  dense  forest,  gently  waving  its 
boughs  to  the  morning  breeze,  would  greet 
the  eye  ; the  dulcet  murmur  of  gurgling 
streams  would  break  on  the-  ear  never  so 
gently ; quiet  cottages,  surrounded  with 
flowers  and  fruits,  seemed  the  abodes  of 
peace  and  content.  Grass-green  marshes 
all  flecked  with  flowers  of  varied  tints, 
with  here  and  there  a tall  pine  or  sombre 
cypress  standing  as  sentinels  of  the  bloom- 
ing mead  ; song-birds  caroling  their  sweet 
lays  as  they  flitted  from  bough  to  bough, 
or  lightly  soaring  in  space ; fields  of  dead- 
ened trees,  all  draped  with  the  long  gray 
Spanish  moss,  reminded  one  of  the  ancient 
Romans  mantled  with  the  toga,  as  they 
were  silhouetted  against  the  sky  ; groups 
of  great  oaks,  with  clusters  of  the  mistletoe 
pendent,  calling  to  mind  the  ancient  Brit- 
ons with  their  strange  and  terrible  religion 
of  the  Druids,  when  they  met  together  in 
their  sacred  groves  for  the  celebration  of 
mystical  rites.  Now  an  open  field  of  corn, 
green  of  blade,  gently  billowed  by  the  wind, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 3 

an  old  gray-haired  farmer  plowing,  seem- 
ingly oblivious  to  all  surrounding  objects, 
and  singing,  as  if  from  the  fullness  of  a 
glad  soul,  the  refrain,  “ I have  some  friends 
in  glory.”  Ah,  honest  farmer,  thought  I, 
many  of  us  will  join  that  sad  refrain  ere 
this  strife  is  ended  ! On,  past  a large  plan- 
tation all  in  cotton,  the  clashing  of  the 
many  hoes,  in  the  hands  of  slaves,  in  uni- 
son with  the  merry  songs  that  floated  far 
on  the  gentle  zephyrs.  The  lone  country 
church  gleaming  white  from  a wilderness 
of  foliage,  with  its  grass  green  mounds,  so 
quiet  and  still.  At  times  the  winds  came 
floating  past,  laden  with  the  resinous  odor 
of  myriad  pines,  and  filled  the  surrounding 
atmosphere  with  a sweetness  of  perfume 
surpassing  the  far-famed  incense  of  Ara- 
bia. 

In  the  near  distance  the  home  of  my 
generous  employer  rose  to  view,  in  every 
respect  the  characteristic  Southern  home, 
with  its  wide  halls,  long  and  broad  colon- 
nade, large  and  airy  rooms,  the  yard  a park 
in  itself,  fruits  and  flowers  abounding. 
Here  there  was  little  or  nothing  to  remind 
us  of  the  impending  conflict.  We  were 
far  from  the  border  States  and  remote  from 


14  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

the  seaboard.  We  had  surmised  that  our 
sequestered  vale  must  have  been  the  spot 
where  the  Indian  chief  and  his  braves 
thrust  their  tomahawks  deep  down  in  the 
soil,  with  their  “ Alabama,  here  we  rest ! ” 
But  soon  it  came  home  to  us,  as  the  ear- 
nestness of  the  strife  began  to  be  realized, 
and  when  we  found  ourselves  encompassed 
by  the  Federal  blockade,  that  we  had  to 
depend  altogether  upon  our  own  resources  ; 
and  no  sooner  had  the  stern  facts  of  the 
situation  forced  themselves  upon  us,  than 
we  joined  with  zealous  determination  to 
make  the  best  of  our  position,  and  to  aid 
the  cause  our  convictions  impressed  on  us 
as  right  and  just.  And  if  up  to  that  time, 
in  the  South,  many  had  engaged  in  work 
purely  as  a matter  of  choice,  there  were 
none,  even  the  wealthiest,  who  had  not 
been  taught  that  labor  was  honorable,  and 
who  had  very  clear  ideas  of  how  work  must 
be  done ; so  when  our  misfortunes  came, 
we  were  by  no  means  found  wanting  in 
any  of  the  qualities  that  were  necessary  for 
our  changed  circumstances. 

Surely  there  was  work  enough  to  be 
done.  Our  soldiers  had  to  be  fed  and 
clothed  ; our  home  ones  had  to  be  fed  and 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 5 

clothed.  All  clothing  and  provisions  for 
the  slaves  had  to  be  produced  and  manu- 
factured at  home.  Leather  had  to  be  of 
our  own  tanning ; all  munitions  of  war 
were  to  be  manufactured  inside  the  block- 
ade. The  huge  bales  of  kerseys,  osna- 
burgs,  and  boxes  of  heavy  brogan-shoes, 
which  had  been  shipped  from  the  North  to 
clothe  and  shoe  the  slaves,  were  things  of 
the  past.  Up  to  the  beginning  of  the  war 
we  had  been  dependent  on  the  North  for 
almost  everything  eaten  and  worn.  Cotton 
was  cultivated  in  the  South  almost  univer- 
sally before  the  war,  it  was  marketed  in  the 
North,  it  was  manufactured  there,  and  then 
returned  in  various  kinds  of  cloth-material 
to  us. 


* 


II. 

But  now  the  giant  emergency  must  be 
met,  and  it  was  not  long  ere  all  were  in 
good  training  ; and  having  put  hands  to  the 
plow,  there  was  no  murmuring  nor  look- 
ing back.  The  first  great  pressing  needs 
were  food  and  clothing.  Our  government 
issued  orders  for  all  those  engaged  in  agri- 
culture to  put  only  one  tenth  of  their  land 
in  cotton,  there  being  then  no  market  for 
cotton.  All  agriculturists,  large  or  small, 
were  also  required  by  our  government  to 
give  for  the  support  of  our  soldiers  one 
tenth  of  all  the  provisions  they  could  raise, 
— a requirement  with  which  we  were  only 
too  willing  to  comply. 

In  southern  Alabama  before  the  war 
the  cultivation  of  cereals  was  quite  rare. 
There  Cotton  was  indeed  king.  I think 
this  saying  was  true  in  all  the  Southern 
States.  It  applied  to  all  the  territory  south 
of  Virginia,  Tennessee,  and  Missouri,  at 
any  rate. 


A BLOCKADED  FA  MIL  y.  17 

When  the  blockade  had  inclosed  the 
South,  our  planters  set  about  in  earnest 
to  grow  wheat,  rye,  rice,  oats,  corn,  peas, 
pumpkins,  and  ground  peas.  The  chufa, 
a thing  I had  never  heard  of  before,  now 
came  to  the  front,  and  was  soon  generally 
cultivated,  along  with  the  ground  pea,  as 
our  position  necessitated  the  production  of 
cheap  food  for  swine.  The  chufa  was 
easily  cultivated,  and  on  fresh  sandy  or 
porous  soil  produced  large  crops.  Every 
available  spot  was  planted  with  the  chufa, 
ground  peas,  and  peas.  Even  in  orchards 
the  interstices  between  the  fruit-trees 
were  filled  with  these  nutritious  ground 
nuts.  I remember  an  orchard  near  where 
I taught  school,  planted  with  chufas.  The 
tubers  were  dropped  about  every  two  feet, 
in  furrows  three  feet  apart.  They  seemed 
like  great  bunches  of  grass,  which  spread 
until  the  interval  between  the  plants  was 
one  mass  of  green  foliage  and  roots  from 
furrow  to  furrow.  The  owners  of  that  or- 
chard said  the  feed  for  their  poultry  had 
cost  them  nothing  that  season,  as  the 
whole  brood  of  fowls  lived  among  the 
chufas  from  the  time  they  left  the  perch  in 
the  morning  till  they  were  called  to  be 


1 8 A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

housed  for  the  night,  and  that  never  be- 
fore had  poultry  been  so  well  fitted  for  the 
table,  never  before  had  the  flesh  been  so 
white  or  so  well  flavored. 

Ground  peas  were  rarely  grown  before 
the  war,  and  were  generally  called  “goo- 
bers.” I do  not  remember  that  I knew 
them  by  any  other  name ; so  one  day  in 
school  hours,  when  one  of  the  little  schol- 
ars called  to  me  that  “ Hetty ’s  got  my 
pindars,”  I was  somewhat  mystified  as  to 
what  a “ pindar  ” was,  and  when  I called 
the  little  girl  to  fetch  the  pindars  to  me, 
she  laid  two  or  three  goobers  in  my  hand. 
They  were  to  be  seen  on  all  sides,  branch- 
ing out  in  all  directions,  in  patches  large 
and  small.  Many  planters  in  giving  their 
corn  and  cotton  the  “laying -by”  plow- 
ing, as  it  was  called,  would  plant  in  the 
middle  furrows  ground  peas,  chufas,  and 
cuttings  from  the  sweet  potato  vines, 
which  required  very  slight  additional  labor 
in  harvesting  the  crops  ; and  by  the  time 
the  crops  had  all  been  gathered  in  and 
frost  appeared,  the  tubers  were  well  ma- 
tured, and  were  great  helps  in  fattening 
pork,  thereby  enabling  the  planter  to  pre- 
serve more  corn  for  the  use  of  the  govern- 
ment. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 9 

Beside  growing  the  ground  pea  for  help 
in  fattening  pork,  a good  supply  was 
housed  for  seed  and  the  use  of  the  family. 
I have  pleasant  recollections  of  the  many 
winter  evenings  when  we  would  have  the 
great  oven  brought  into  the  sitting-room, 
placed  on  the  hearth,  with  glowing  red 
coals  underneath,  filled  with  white  sand,  in 
which  we  parched  the  pindars  nice  and 
brown.  Or  perhaps  the  oven  would  be 
filled  partly  with  our  home-made  syrup, 
with  raw  ground  peas  hulled  and  dropped 
into  the  boiling  syrup.  Properly  cooked, 
what  nice  peanut  candy  that  made  ! Oil 
from  the  peanuts  was  also  expressed  for 
lamps  and  other  uses  during  war  times. 
In  fine,  peanuts,  ground  peas,  goobers,  and 
pindars,  all  one  species,  though  known  by 
all  these  names,  played  an  important  part 
during  the  blockade. 

Many  planters  who  had  never  grown 
wheat  before  were  surprised  at  the  great 
yield  of  grain  to  the  acreage  sown.  I 
well  remember  hearing  a brother  of  Mrs. 

G , who  lived  in  Troy,  Alabama,  tell  of 

very  highly  fertilizing  one  acre  of  already 
rich  soil,  as  a test  of  what  he  really  could 
reap  from  an  acre  thus  treated.  The  yield 


20 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


went  far  beyond  his  most  sanguine  expec- 
tations, for  that  one  acre  yielded  seventy- 
five  bushels  of  wheat.  Another  wealthy 
planter,  living  in  the  village  of  Glennville, 
Alabama,  had  his  overseer  single  out  and 
lay  off  one  acre  of  very  rich  hammock 
land,  which  was  only  lightly  fertilized, 
from  which  he  reaped  fifty  measured  bush- 
els. Of  course  this  was  only  testing  what 
good  uplands,  or  hammocks  rich  in  soil, 
would  yield  in  wheat  by  highly  or  lightly 

fertilizing.  Mr.  G had  sown  quite 

heavily  in  wheat  when  all  avenues  for  its 
entrance  to  the  South  had  been  closed.  I 
remember  one  twelve  acres  of  hammock 

land  that  Mr.  G had  sown  in  wheat, 

so  rich  of  soil  that  no  fertilizing  was  nec- 
essary. Morning,  noon,  and  night  that 
twelve-acre  hammock  in  wheat  was  a topic 
of  conversation  at  the  table  during  our 
meal  hours.  In  one  of  our  afternoon  rides, 
when  school  hours  were  over  for  the  day, 
we  made  haste  to  view  this  paragon  of  a 
field,  and  as  we  halted  our  horses  on  the 
crest  of  a hill  from  which  we  could  “ view 
the  landscape  o’er,”  what  a grand  pano- 
rama came  into  view ! There,  not  the 
“ fields  arrayed  in  living  green,”  but  wave 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


21 


on  wave  of  long  amber  wheat  gently  roll- 
ing in  the  wind.  A large  stream  of  water 
bounded  two  sides  of  the  hammock,  and 
heavy  green  foliage  formed  a background 
in  vivid  contrast  to  the  golden  heads  whose 
every  culm  seemed  on  a level.  We  slid 
almost  unconsciously  from  our  saddles, 
hitched  the  horses,  and  were  soon  standing 
in  the  midst  of  the  wheat,  with  eyes 
scarcely  able  to  peer  over  that  vast  plain 
of  golden-yellow.  We  took  off  our  hats 
and  gave  them  a sail  on  the  already  ripen- 
ing grain,  — for  it  was  near  harvest  time, 
— and  there  they  lay  without  perceptibly 
bending  the  stalks  of  wheat.  We  plucked 
some  of  the  grain,  rubbed  it  in  our  hands 
to  free  and  winnow  it,  and  found  it  sweet 
and  palatable.  Backward  flew  our  thoughts 
to  that  field  of  wheat  near  Lake  Tiberias 
through  which  Christ  and  his  disciples 
passed  on  the  Sabbath  day  and  plucked 
the  “ ears  of  corn  ” and  did  eat,  for  they 
hungered. 

The  yield  of  the  hammock  was  estimated 
to  be  at  least  five  hundred  bushels  ; but  a 
rainy  spell  set  in  just  as  the  reaping  began, 
and  it  rained  in  showers,  light  and  heavy, 
more  or  less  for  twenty-seven  days.  As 


22 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


the  means  then  for  harvesting  wheat  were 
of  a primeval  order,  the  reaping  was  slow 
and  tedious,  so  that  most  of  the  grain  was 
badly  damaged,  and  some  was  entirely 
spoiled. 

There  was  great  bother  when  it  came  to 
threshing  the  wheat ; many  and  varied  were 
the  means  employed  for  freeing  the  chaff 
from  the  grain.  Some  planters  threshed 
and  fanned  the  wheat  at  their  gin-houses. 
I remember  a portable  thresher  came  into 
our  settlement,  and  traveled  from  planta- 
tion to  plantation,  threshing  for  a percent- 
age of  the  grain.  Others,  whose  sowing 
and  reaping  was  on  a small  scale,  resorted 
to  ruder  methods  to  free  the  grain,  — meth- 
ods which  called  to  mind  the  rural  life  and 
manners  of  ancient  times.  Sometimes  the 
wheat  was  threshed  with  the  rudest  sort  of 
home-made  flails. 

A woman,  whose  husband  and  two  sons 
were  in  the  army,  lived  near  our  settlement 
in  a cottage  which  stood  some  little  dis- 
tance from  the  roadside,  in  a cluster  of 
oaks,  whose  foliage  almost  hid  the  house 
from  passers-by.  While  yet  some  rods 
from  the  dwelling,  one  day,  there  came  to 
our  ears  a succession  of  regular  thwacks, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


23 


the  meaning  of  which  we  could  not  define 
by  the  sound.  As  the  woman  was  a neigh- 
bor, we  turned  aside  to  investigate,  and 
opened  wide  our  eyes  when  we  beheld  the 
woman  seated  in  a chair,  with  a common 
sized  barrel  just  in  front  of  her,  within 
good  striking  distance.  There  she  sat,  a 
sheaf  of  wheat  held  with  both  hands,  and 
with  this  she  was  vigorously  belaboring 
the  barrel,  at  every  stroke  a shower  of 
wheat-grains  raining  down  upon  quilts  and 
coverlets  which  had  been  arranged  to  catch 
it.  By  this  simple  process  she  flailed  as 
much  as  a bushel  or  two  at  one  time.  She 
then  spread  the  sheets  out  on  the  ground, 
in  the  open  air,  and  poured  the  wheat  on 
them  in  a continuous  stream.  The  wind 
acted  as  a great  “ fan,”  the  grain  by  its 
own  weight  falling  in  one  place,  while  the 
chaff  was  carried  off  by  the  wind.  When 
that  threshing  was  ground  at  the  flouring 
mill  and  used  up,  the  same  rude  flailing 
was  repeated. 

Another  contrivance  for  threshing  wheat, 
even  more  unique,  was  that  of  a woman 
whose  husband  also  was  in  our  army.  She 
was  left  with  five  small  children,  but  man- 
aged to  cultivate  a small  farm  with  those  of 


24  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

the  five  children  who  had  grown  enough  to 
give  a little  help.  She  raised  a small  plat 
of  wheat  year  by  year  as  the  war  went  on. 
She  had  in  her  smoke-house  a large  trough 
that  was  used  for  salting  pork  when  killed 
in  the  winter  ; indeed,  nearly  all  smoke- 
houses then  had  large  troughs,  some  as 
many  as  two  or  three,  hewn  and  dug  out 
from  the  stocks  of  trees,  and  sometimes 
six  or  eight  feet  long.  They  were  very 
useful  in  holding  salted  pork,  salt,  soap,  and 
dried  bacon  packed  down  in  leached  ashes. 
The  woman  cleaned  her  trough  nicely,  un- 
tied the  sheaves  of  wheat,  and  placed  them 
in  the  trough,  not  quite  brimming,  so  as  to 
lose  none  of  the  grains  ; then  with  heavy 
sticks  and  little  wooden  mauls  she  had 
roughly  shaped,  she  and  her  little  children 
would  beat  the  grain  free  of  the  husks. 
It  was  then  winnowed  the  same  way  as 
was  the  woman’s  who  threshed  over  the 
barrel. 

Hundreds  during  the  war  resorted  to  such 
devices  for  freeing  their  grain  of  chaff  ; yet 
flour  was  very  scarce,  although  the  South 
put  forth  her  best  energies  to  cultivate 
wheat.  After  delivering  the  government 
tithe,  and  sharing  with  our  home  ones, 


A BLOCKADED'  FAMILY.  25 

the  crop  rarely  lasted  till  another  harvest. 
It  was  quite  amusing  to  hear  the  neigh- 
bors as  they  met  in  social  gatherings,  or 
perhaps  when  separating  from  service  at 
church,  press  their  friends  to  come  and  see 
them,  or  come  and  have  dinner,  “ For  we 
have  got  a barrel  of  flour."  It  was  even 
more  amusing  to  have  friends  sit  at  the 
dining-table,  and,  when  a waiter  of  brown, 
warm  biscuits  was  passed  round,  to  see 
them  feign  ignorance  of  what  they  were. 

Bolted  meal,  when  obtainable,  made  a 
very  good  substitute  for  flour,  though  mil- 
lers said  it  injured  their  bolting-cloth  to 
sift  the  corn  meal  through  it ; yet  nearly 
every  household,  in  sending  its  grist  to  be 
ground,  would  order  a portion  of  the  meal 
to  be  bolted  for  use  as  flour.  Such  bolted 
meal,  when  sifted  through  a thin  muslin 
cloth  and  mixed  up  with  scalding  water  to 
make  it  more  viscid  and  adhesive,  was  as 
easily  moulded  into  pie  crust  with  the  aid 
of  the  rolling-pin  as  the  pure  flour.  Nice 
muffins  and  waffles  were  made  of  bolted 
meal,  and  we  also  made  a very  nice  cake 
of  the  same  and  our  home-made  brown 
sugar. 

All  the-  moist  and  marshy  places  in  the 


26  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

fields  that  had  hitherto  been  thought  fit  for 
naught  as  to  the  growing  of  farm  prod- 
ucts, were  utilized  for  rice  and  sugar-cane 
patches,  and  were  found  to  yield  plenti- 
fully. Some  people,  not  having  dank  or 
moist  spots  suitable  for  rice  on  their 
farms,  planted  rice  on  the  uplands,  and 
were  surprised  to  find  they  had  an  average 
yield  with  those  who  had  planted  the  moist 
spots ; and  thus  it  has  come  about  that 
even  now  in  the  South  rice  is  planted  on 
the  uplands.  Some  few  rude  rice  mills 
were  hastily  put  up  for  stripping  the  coarse 
brown  husks  from  the  rice,  but  as  they 
were  distant  from  most  of  the  planters  in 
our  settlement,  wooden  mortars  had  to  be 
temporarily  improvised.  A tree  of  proper 
size  would  be  cut  down  ; from  the  stock  a 
length  suitable  would  be  cut  or  sawed  ; a 
cavity  would  be  hollowed  with  an  adze  in 
the  centre  of  the  block  endwise.  For  the 
want  of  better  polishing  tools  the  cavity 
would  be  made  smooth  by  burning  with 
fire.  The  charred  surface  was  then  scraped 
off  and  made  even,  the  hollow  cleared  free 
of  all  coal  dust,  and  the  pestle,  made,  per- 
haps, from  a bough  of  the  same  tree,  com- 
pleted the  primitive  rice  mill.  Rough  rice 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  2J 

pounded  in  such  a mortar  and  winnowed 
by  the  wind  was  clean  and  white.  The 
only  objection  to  it  was  that  it  was  more 
splintered  than  if  it  had  gone  through  a 
better  mill. 

Mills  had  also  to  be  erected  for  grinding 
sugar-cane  and  the  sorghum-cane,  as  some 
sorghum  was  raised  in  southern  Alabama. 
In  our  settlement  only  the  “ green  ” and 
“ribbon”  cane  were  grown,  which,  like  the 
cereals,  were  never  cultivated  before  the 
war.  What  cane  had  been  grown  was  in 
patches  owned  by  slaves,  and  for  the  sac- 
charine juice  alone.  Wooden  cylinders 
had  to  be  used,  as  those  of  iron  were  not 
easily  obtained.  With  these  cylinders  all 
of  the  juice  could  not  be  expressed,  but 
our  farmers  contented  themselves  with  the 
thought  that  there  was  no  great  loss  after 
all,  as  their  swine  could  draw  from  the 
crushed  cane  all  the  juice  that  was  left 
before  it  was  hauled  to  fill  ditches  and  gul- 
lies. In  case  one  was  so  fortunate  as  to 
secure  a sugar  mill  with  iron  cylinders,  it 
used  to  go  the  rounds  of  its  immediate  vi- 
cinity, as  the  portable  threshers  did.  First 
one  and  then  another  of  the  neighbors 
would  use  it  till  their  crop  of  cane  was 


28 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


ground  and  made  into  syrup  and  sugar. 
The  furnaces  for  sugar  and  syrup  making 
were  built  of  rocks,  if  bricks  were  not  con- 
venient. They  held  one  or  two  kettles, 
according  to  the  quantity  of  cane  to  be 
ground  and  of  juice  to  be  boiled.  A 
couple  or  more  of  long  wooden  troughs 
hollowed  from  trees  were  'necessary  for 
containing  the  syrup  when  boiled  to  the 
proper  degree  of  density,  before  turning 
into  the  barrels.  That  designed  for  sugar, 
after  being  turned  into  the  troughs,  was 
usually  beaten  with  wooden  paddles,  and 
dipper  after  dipper  was  filled  with  the 
thick  syrup  and  poured  back  into  the  su- 
gar trough,  till  all  was  changed  into  sugar. 
Of  course  there  were  mishaps  now  and 
then,  as  evaporators  could  not  be  had,  and 
the  planters  were  not  experts  in  syrup  and 
sugar  making.  I remember  one  gentle- 
man, whose  “green”  and  “ribbon”  cane 
had  been  exceptionally  fine  for  the  season, 
who  had  engaged  a man  who  was  said  to 
be  something  of  an  expert  to  supervise  his 
sugar  boiling.  The  owner  of  the  cane  was 
to  make  his  own  syrup  unaided  ; yet  his 
very  first  boiling  of  syrup,  when  run  into 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  29 

the  trough  and  stirred  back  and  forth  with 
the  wooden  paddles  to  cool,  began  to  crys- 
tallize into  grains  of  sugar,  and  on  turning 
into  the  barrel  was  soon  solid,  compact, 
light-brown  sugar,  without  further  stir,  and 
was  his  finest  sugar,  though  the  one  who 
supervised,  when  it  came  his  turn  to  make 
the  sugar,  tried  hard  to  excel  that  made 
by  the  merest  accident ; but  none  of  his 
was  so  light  of  color  or  so  free  of  drip- 
ping. Another  had  boiled  his  juice  too 
much  for  either  sugar  or  syrup,  so  that  he 
had  a whole  barrel  full  of  dark-brown  solid 
candy,  which  had  to  be  chipped  out  with 
a hatchet.  The  syrup  that  was  made 
later,  as  the  war  went  on,  was  all  that 
could  be  desired,  — thick,  clear,  and  pure. 
The  sugar  was  necessarily  brown,  as  ap- 
pliances for  refining  at  that  time  could 
not  be  had.  The  planters  would  place 
smooth  oak  splits  and  switches  in  the  bar- 
rels of  sugar,  and  just  the  length  of  the 
barrel,  to  aid  the  dripping,  and  to  better 
free  the  sugar  from  moisture.  It  was  not 
uncommon  to  see  planters,  when  they 
called  upon  each  other,  draw  from  their 
pockets  small  packages  wrapped  in  our 


30  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

own  manufactured  brown  paper,  which 
packages  contained  samples  of  their  make 
of  sugar.  These  they  carried  about  with 
them  and  compared  with  the  sugar  made 
by  others. 


III. 


A woman  whose  husband  and  one  son 
were  in  our  army  had  raised,  with  the  help 
of  her  few  slaves,  among  other  farm  prod- 
ucts, a surplus  of  watermelons.  The  sea- 
son had  been  propitious,  and  her  melons 
were  large,  well  flavored,  and  very  juicy. 
So  one  day  she  determined  to  make  a trial 
of  the  juice  of  the  watermelons  for  syrup. 
She  gathered  those  which  were  thought  to 
be  ripe  enough  for  use,  prepared  a large 
tub  with  a sack  hanging  over  it,  sliced  up 
the  melons,  and  scraped  all  the  meat  and 
juice  into  the  sack.  From  what  dripped 
into  the  tub  through  the  sack  when 
pressed,  she  managed  to  get  several  gal- 
lons of  bright  juice,  which  she  placed  for 
boiling  in  her  large  iron  kettle  — generally 
known  in  the  country  as  the  “ wash  pot,” 
and  which  was  always  left  out  of  doors,  in 
a shady,  convenient  place,  for  washing 
clothes,  making  soap,  or  drying  up  lard  in 
hog-killing  time.  She  built  her  fire,  boiled 


32  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

the  juice  slowly,  carefully  taking  off  all  the 
scum,  and  was  rewarded  with  syrup  of  a 
flavor  as  fine,  or  even  finer,  than  that 
made  from  the  sugar-cane.  Flushed  with 
success,  she  essayed  sugar,  also,  from  wa- 
termelon juice,  and  cakes  as  nice  as  those 
from  the  sap  of  the  maple  were  the  out- 
come. The  balance  of  her  melon  crop  was 
converted  into  sugar  and  syrup. 

Inasmuch  as  syrup  and  sugar  had  to  be 
placed  in  barrels,  barrel-making  was  an- 
other industry  that  was  forced  upon  the 
South.  Soon  several  coopers’  shops  were 
built  here  and  there,  and  it  seemed  queer 
enough  for  us  to  have  home-made  barrels, 
casks,  tubs,  and  piggins.  They  were  man- 
ufactured of  oak,  pine,  cypress,  and  juni- 
per. Those  in  use  for  syrup  or  sugar  were 
generally  of  oak,  as  it  was  thought  they 
gave  a more  pleasant  taste  to  their  con- 
tents. 

The  Palma  christi,  or  castor-oil  plant, 
being  indigenous  to  the  South  and  grow- 
ing most  luxuriantly  in  the  wild  state,  was 
soon  cultivated  in  patches  near  our  dwell- 
ings, for  the  beans,  from  which  castor  oil  as 
thick  and  transparent  as  that  sold  by  drug- 
gists was  extracted.  As  we  had  no  rollers 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  33 

to  crush  the  beans,  rude  mortars  were  re- 
sorted to,  in  which  they  were  well  crushed, 
the  oil  passing,  as  it  was  expressed, 
through  an  orifice  in  the  side  of  the  mor- 
tar, near  its  base.  Water  was  then  added 
to  the  oil,  and  the  whole  was  boiled,  or 
rather  raised  to  the  boiling  point,  which 
caused  all  the  impurities  to  rise  to  the  top, 
when  it  was  strained  and  the  oil  dipped 
from  the  top  of  the  water.  An  uncle  of 

Mrs.  G had  made  some  castor  oil.  He 

brought  her  a bottle,  and  when  shown  me 
I could  scarce  believe  it  home-made,  as 
there  was  no  apparent  difference  between 
this  bottle  of  oil  so  produced  in  southern 
Alabama  and  that  which  we  had  been 
wont  to  buy  before  the  blockade. 

Shoes  and  leather  soon  became  very 
high-priced,  bringing  home  to  us  the  fact 
that  we  had  indeed  entered  on  troublous 
times.  All  our  planters  were  reduced  to 
the  necessity  of  tanning  leather  for  their 
own  use,  and  also  in  order  to  aid  in  sup- 
plying the  soldiers  of  our  Confederacy 
with  shoes.  The  home  process  of  tanning 
among  the  lesser  planters  was  perhaps  as 
crude  as  that  practiced  in  the  earliest 
ages  ; for  although  there  were  many  rude 


34  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

tanneries  set  in  operation  during  the  war, 
and  still  ruder  modes  of  grinding  the  red 
oak  bark  for  the  vats  were  in  vogue  in 
some  places,  planters  on  a small  scale  did 
not  care  to  carry  the  few  hides  they  had 
the  long  distances  to  the  tanyards.  With 
them  the  question  was  how  best  to  tan  at 
their  homes,  and  as  the  necessity  was 
urgent,  it  was  not  long  ere  they  had  de- 
vised a plan. 

The  hides  were  placed  in  a trough  or 
barrel  and  covered  with  water,  in  which  a 
small  quantity  of  weak  lye,  that  was  made 
to  answer  the  purpose  of  lime,  had  been 
mingled.  When  the  hides  had  soaked  the 
required  length  of  time,  they  were  taken 
from  the  trough,  and  with  but  little  diffi- 
culty and  labor  the  hair  was  removed  and 
they  were  ready  for  the  next  stage  of  the 
process.  A pit,  of  size  suitable  for  the 
number  of  hides  to  be  tanned,  was  dug  in 
the  ground  near  a spring  or  stream  of  run- 
ning water;  the  bottom  and  sides  were  lined 
with  boards  riven  from  the  stock  of  a tree  ; 
the  seams  were  calked  tightly  with  lint  cot- 
ton, to  prevent  the  tan-ooze  from  escaping.  •> 
Then  the  red  oak  bark,  which  had  been 
peeled  in  long  strips  from  the  trees,  hav- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  35 

ing  arrived,  a layer  of  the  bark  was  placed 
smooth  and  even  in  the  bottom  of  the  vat, 
a layer  of  hides  was  stretched  over  the 
bark,  another  layer  of  bark  was  put  in 
position,  then  another  of  hides,  and  so  on, 
until  the  rough  vat  was  filled  with  hides 
and  bark,  — the  bark  being  used  just  as  it 
came  from  the  trees.  Water  was  poured 
into  the  vat,  and  its  contents  were  left  to 
steep  from  three  to  six  months,  according 
to  the  fancy  of  the  tanner.  I heard  many 
planters  say  they  had  never  bought  better 
leather  than  that  which  they  had  tanned 
by  this  simple  process. 

Of  course,  when  neighbor  called  upon 
neighbor,  the  leather  that  was  home- 
tanned  used  to  be  displayed.  They  would 
double  it  over  and  over  again,  and  often 
pronounce  it  the  best  they  ever  saw.  It 
made  a soft,  peculiar  noise  when  pressed 
with  the  hands,  and  was  very  pliant  and 
supple,  answering  every  purpose  for  which 
leather  is  adapted.  Its  chief  usefulness  lay 
in  its  furnishing  shoes  for  our  soldiers  and 
for  those  at  home,  but  gear  of  all  kinds 
used  on  plantations  was  mended  or  made 
anew  from  this  product  ; harnesses  for 
farm  use  or  for  equipping  army  saddles  or 


36  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

ambulance  trains  were  manufactured  and 
repaired  out  of  home-tanned  leather.  And 
to  meet  our  pressing  wants,  the  hides  of 
horses,  mules,  hogs,  and  dogs  were  all  util- 
ized. 

One  fall,  while  I was  staying  at  Mr. 

G ’s,  he  lost  many  fine  fattening  hogs 

with  the  cholera.  These  hogs  weighed 
from  two  to  three  or  four  hundred  pounds 
apiece.  It  had  been  his  habit  to  butcher 
every  winter  from  eighty  to  a hundred 
fine  porkers.  This  fall  the  cholera  epi- 
demic had  been  so  fatal  that  there  was 
scarcely  a planter  in  all  the  neighborhood 
but  lost  a great  many  swine.  They  would 
feed  at  night  and  seem  to  be  perfectly 
well,  and  be  dead  by  morning ; or  seem- 
ingly well  in  the  morning,  and  dead  by 
night.  As  this  happened  in  war  time,  the 
loss  was  felt  heavily. 

We  needed  leather  so  badly  that  the 
hogs  were  flayed  as  soon  as  dead,  and  their 
hides  were  tanned.  The  best  and  heaviest 
leather  was  used  for  making  shoes  for  the 
slaves,  as  their  work  was  out  of  doors  as 
a rule,  and  heavy  brogans  could  not  be 
bought.  But  leather  from  the  hides  of 
swine  fell  to  our  lot  also,  for  winter  shoes ; 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  37 

and  many  other  white  families  were  obliged 
to  use  it.  I remember  very  plainly  when 
one  of  Mr.  G— ’s  daughters  and  I first 
wore  swine-skin  shoes.  They  were  made  of 

leather  which  Mr.  G himself  had  had 

tanned,  and,  except  that  the  pores  were 
very  large  and  wide  apart,  it  looked  like 
ordinary  leather.  We  had  consented  with 
some  reluctance  to  have  these  shoes  made, 
for,  although  we  were  willing  to  immolate 
ourselves  on  the  altar  of  our  Southern 
Confederacy,  it  had  fallen  rather  severely 
on  us  to  think  that  we  must  wear  hog-skin 
shoes  ! They  were  made,  however,  at  a 
cost  of  ten  dollars  a pair,  we  furnishing  the 
leather  from  which  to  make  them.  But 
swine-skin  leather  was  very  extensible,  and 
our  shoes  spread  out  quite  flat  by  the  time 
we  had  worn  them  a day  or  so.  This  was 
more  than  we  could  endure,  so  we  took 
them  off,  and  one  of  the  negro  house-girls 
came  into  possession  of  two  more  pair  of 
shoes,  while  we  stepped  back  into  shoes 
made  of  homespun. 

As  no  shoe-blacking  or  polish  could  be 
bought  during  the  blockade,  each  family 
improvised  its  own  blacking,  which  was 
soot  and  ail  of  some  variety  (either  cotton- 


38  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

seed,  ground  peas,  or  oil  of  compressed 
lard)  mixed  together.  The  shoes  would 
be  well  painted  with  the  mixture  of  soot 
and  oil,  with  brushes  made  of  the  bristles 
of  swine.  Then  a thin  paste  made  of 
flour,  bolted  meal,  or  starch,  was  applied 
all  over  the  blackened  shoe  with  another 
brush,  which  paste,  when  dry,  gave  the 
shoe  as  bright  and  glossy  an  appearance 
as  if  “ shined  ” by  the  best  of  bootblacks. 
Planters  were  very  careful  in  killing  their 
hogs  to  save  a good  supply  of  bristles, 
from  which  shapely  brushes  were  manu- 
factured. 

The  obtaining  of  salt  became  extremely 
difficult  when  the  war  had  cut  off  our  sup- 
ply. This  was  true  especially  in  regions 
remote  from  the  sea-coast  and  border 
States,  such  as  the  interior  of  Alabama 
and  Georgia.  Here  again  we  were  obliged 
to  have  recourse  to  whatever  expedient  in- 
genuity suggested.  All  the  brine  left  in 
troughs  and  barrels,  where  pork  had  been 
salted  down,  was  carefully  dipped  up,  boiled 
down,  and  converted  into  salt  again.  In 
some  cases  the  salty  soil  under  old  smoke- 
houses was  dug  up  and  placed  in  hoppers, 
which  resembled  backwoods  ash-hoppers, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


39 


made  for  leaching  ashes  in  the  process  of 
soap-manufacture.  Water  was  then  poured 
upon  the  soil,  the  brine  which  percolated 
through  the  hopper  was  boiled  down  to  the 
proper  point,  poured  into  vessels,  and  set 
in  the  sun,  which  by  evaporation  completed 
the  rude  process.  Though  never  of  im- 
maculate whiteness,  the  salt  which  resulted 
from  these  methods  served  well  enough 
for  all  our  purposes,  and  we  accepted  it 
without  complaining. 

Before  the  war  there  were  in  the  South 
but  few  cotton  mills.  These  were  kept 
running  night  and  day,  as  soon  as  the  Con- 
federate army  was  organized,  and  we  were 
ourselves  prevented  by  the  blockade  from 
purchasing  clothing  from  the  factories  at 
the  North,  or  clothing  imported  from 
France  or  England.  The  cotton  which 
grew  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  mills 
kept  them  well  supplied  with  raw  material. 
Yet  notwithstanding  the  great  push  of  the 
cotton  mills,  they  proved  totally  inadequate, 
after  the  war  began,  to  our  vast  need  for 
clothing  of  every  kind.  Every  household 
now  became  a miniature  factory  in  itself, 
with  its  cotton,  cards,  spinning-wheels, 
warping-frames,  looms,  and  so  on.  Wher- 


40  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

ever  one  went,  the  hum  of  the  spinning- 
wheel  and  the  clang  of  the  batten  of  the 
loom  was  borne  on  the  ear. 

Great  trouble  was  experienced,  in  the 
beginning,  to  find  dyes  with  which  to  color 
our  stuffs  ; but  in  the  course  of  time,  both 
at  the  old  mills  and  at  smaller  experi- 
mental factories  which  were  run  entirely 
by  hand,  barks,  leaves,  roots,  and  berries 
were  found  containing  coloring  properties. 
I was  well  acquainted  with  a gentleman 
in  southwestern  Georgia  who  owned  a 
small  cotton  mill,  and  who,  when  he 
wanted  coloring  substances,  used  to  send 
his  wagons  to  the  woods  and  freight  them 
with  a shrub  known  as  myrtle,  that  grew 
teeming  in  low  moist  places  near  his  mill. 
This  myrtle  yielded  a nice  gray  for  woolen 
goods. 

That  the  slaves  might  be  well  clad,  the 
owners  kept,  according  to  the  number  of 
slaves  owned,  a number  of  negro  women 
carding  and  spinning,  and  had  looms  run- 
ning all  the  time.  Now  and  then  a planter 
would  be  so  fortunate  as  to  secure  a bale 
or  more  of  white  sheeting  and  osnaburgs 
from  the  cotton  mills,  in  exchange  for  farm 
products,  which  would  be  quite  a lift,  and 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  4 1 

give  a little  breathing-spell  from  the  almost 
incessant  whirr,  hum,  and  clang  of  the  spin- 
ning-wheel and  loom. 

Wide  unbleached  sheeting  was  also  used 
for  making  dresses,  and  when  dyed  a deep 
solid  color  and  tastefully  made  up  the  ef- 
fect was  quite  handsome.  On  one  occasion, 

when  Mr.  G had  been  fortunate  in 

getting  a bale  of  unbleached  factory  sheet- 
ing, Mrs.  G gave  to  me,  to  her  two 

oldest  daughters,  and  a niece  of  hers,  who 
was  as  one  of  the  family,  enough  of  the 
sheeting  to  make  each  one  of  us  a dress. 
We  had  to  hie  us  to  the  woods  for  col- 
oring matter,  to  dye  as  each  one  pleased. 

I have  often  joined  with  neighbors,  when 
school  hours  for  the  day  were  over,  in  gath- 
ering roots,  barks,  leaves,  twigs,  sumach 
berries,  and  walnuts,  for  the  hulls,  which 
dyed  wool  a beautiful  dark  brown.  Such 
was  the  variety  we  had  to  choose  from,  to 
dye  our  cloth  and  thread.  We  used  to 
pull  our  way  through  the  deep  tangled 
woods,  by  thickly  shaded  streams,  through 
broad  fields,  and  return  laden  with  the 
riches  of  the  Southern  forest ! Not  infre- 
quently clusters  of  grapes  mingled  with 
our  freight  of  dyes.  The  pine-tree’s  roots 


42  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

furnished  a beautiful  dye,  approximating 
very  closely  to  garnet,  which  color  I chose 
for  the  sheeting  for  my  dress.  A strong 
decoction  of  the  roots  of  the  pine-tree  was 
used.  Copperas  of  our  own  production  was 
was  used  as  the  mordant.  A cask  or  some 
small  vessel  was  set  convenient  to  the 
dwelling-house  and  partly  filled  with  water, 
in  which  a small  quantity  of  salt  and  vine- 
gar had  been  mingled  ; then  pieces  of  rusty, 
useless  iron,  such  as  plows  too  much  worn 
to  be  used  again,  rusty  broken  rails,  old 
horse-shoes,  and  bits  of  old  chains  were 
picked  up  and  cast  into  the  cask.  The  liq- 
uid copperas  was  always  ready,  and  a very 
good  substance  we  found  it  to  fix  colors  in 
cloth  or  thread.  The  sheeting  for  the  dress 
was  folded  smoothly  and  basted  slightly  so 
as  to  keep  the  folds  in  place.  It  was  first 
thoroughly  soaked  in  warm  soapsuds,  then 
dipped  into  the  dye,  and  afterwards  into  a 
vessel  containing  liquid  lye  from  wood- 
ashes  ; then  it  went  again  into  the  dye, 
then  the  lye,  and  so  on  till  the  garnet  color 
was  the  required  shade.  By  varying  the 
strength  of  the  solution  any  shade  desira- 
ble could  be  obtained.  My  garnet-colored 
dress  of  unbleached  sheeting  was  often 
mistaken  for  worsted  delaine. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


43 


Many  of  the  planters  in  southern  Ala- 
bama began  to  grow  wool  on  quite  a large 
scale,  as  the  war  went  on  and  no  woolen 
goods  could  be  had.  All  the  woolen  mate- 
rial that  could  be  manufactured  at  the  cot- 
ton mills  was  used  to  clothe  our  soldiers, 
so  that  all  the  varied  kinds  of  woolen  goods 
that  hitherto  had  been  used  with  us  had 
now  to  be  of  home  hand-make.  In  this 
we  achieved  entire  success.  All  kinds  of 
woolen  goods  — flannels  both  colored  and 
white,  plaids  of  bright  colors,  which  we 
thought  equal  to  the  famed  Scotch  plaids  ; 
balmorals,  which  were  then  in  fashion  — 
were  woven,  with  grave  or  gay  borders  as 
suited  our  fancy.  Woolen  coverlets  and 
blankets  were  also  manufactured.  The 
woolen  blankets  were  at  first  woven  with 
the  warp  of  cotton  thread,  but  a woman  of 
our  settlement  improved  on  that  by  weav- 
ing some  blankets  on  the  common  house 
loom,  both  warp  and  woof  of  wool,  spun  by 
her  own  hands.  The  borders  were  bright 
red  and  blue,  of  texture  soft  and  yielding  ; 
they  were  almost  equal  to  those  woven  at 
a regular  wroolen  mill.  The  process  of 
weaving  all-wool  blankets  with  warp  and 
woof  hand-spun  was  quite  tedious,  yet  it 


44  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

was  accomplished.  Various  kinds  of 
twilled  woolen  cloth  were  also  woven.  In 
weaving  coverlets,  the  weaver  had  the 
“ draught  ” before  her,  to  guide  her  in 
tramping  the  pedals  and  throwing  the 
design  of  flower,  vine,  leaf,  square,  or  dia- 
mond on  the  right  side.  Beautiful  carpets 
also  were  made  on  the  same  plan  as  cover- 
lets. 

Many  of  the  planters,  after  the  shearing 
of  their  sheep,  used  to  carry  the  wool  to 
the  nearest  cotton  mill  and  have  it  carded 
into  rolls,  to  facilitate  the  making  of  woolen 
cloth ; and  often  large  quantities  of  lint 
cotton  were  hauled  to  the  factories,  to  be 
carded  into  rolls  to  be  spun  at  home. 
But  carding  rolls  by  common  hand-cards 
was  a rather  slow  and  tiresome  process. 


IV. 


There  was  some  pleasant  rivalry  as  to 
who  should  be  the  most  successful  in  pro- 
ducing the  brightest  and  clearest  tinge  of 
color  on  thread  or  cloth.  Most  of  the  wo- 
men of  southern  Alabama  had  small  plats 
of  ground  for  cultivating  the  indigo  bush, 
for  making  “ indigo  blue,”  or  “ indigo 
mud,”  as  it  was  sometimes  called.  The 
indigo  weed  also  grew  abundantly  in  the 
wild  state  in  our  vicinage.  Those  who 
did  not  care  to  bother  with  indigo  cultiva- 
tion used  to  gather,  from  the  woods,  the 
weed  in  the  wild  state  when  in  season. 
Enough  of  the  blue  was  always  made 
either  from  the  wild  or  cultivated  indigo 
plant.  We  used  to  have  our  regular  “ in- 
digo churnings,”  as  they  were  called. 
When  the  weed  had  matured  sufficiently 
for  making  the  blue  mud,  which  was  about 
the  time  the  plant  began  to  flower,  the 
plants  were  cut  close  to  the  ground,  our 
steeping  vats  were  closely  packed  with  the 


46  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

weed,  and  water  enough  to  cover  the  plant 
was  poured  in.  The  vat  was  then  left 
eight  or  nine  days  undisturbed  for  fermen- 
tation, to  extract  the  dye.  Then  the  plant 
was  rinsed  out,  so  to  speak,  and  the  water 
in  the  vat  was  churned  up  and  down  with 
a basket  for  quite  a while ; weak  lye  was 
added  as  a precipitate,  which  caused  the 
indigo  particles  held  in  solution  to  fall  to 
the  bottom  of  the  vat ; the  water  was  poured 
off,  and  the  “ mud  ” was  placed  in  a sack 
and  hung  up  to  drip  and  dry.  It  was  just 
as  clear  and  bright  a blue  as  if  it  had 
passed  through  a more  elaborate  process. 

The  woods,  as  well  as  being  the  great 
storehouse  for  all  our  dye-stuffs,  were  also 
our  drug  stores.  The  berries  of  the  dog- 
wood-tree were  taken  for  quinine,  as  they 
contained  the  alkaloid  properties  of  cin- 
chona and  Peruvian  bark.  A soothing 
and  efficacious  cordial  for  dysentery  and 
similar  ailments  was  made  from  blackberry 
roots  ; but  ripe  persimmons,  when  made 
into  a cordial,  were  thought  to  be  far  su- 
perior to  blackberry  roots.  An  extract  of 
the  barks  of  the  wild  cherry,  dogwood, 
poplar,  and  wahoo  trees  was  used  for  chills 
and  agues.  For  coughs  and  all  lung  dis- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  47 

eases  a syrup  made  with  the  leaves  and 
roots  of  the  mullein  plant,  globe  flower, 
and  wild-cherry  tree  bark  was  thought  to 
be  infallible.  Of  course  the  castor-bean 
plant  was  gathered  in  the  wild  state  in  the 
forest,  for  making  castor  oil. 

Many  also  cultivated  a few  rows  of  pop- 
pies in  their  garden  to  make  opium,  from 
which  our  laudanum  was  created  ; and 
this  at  times  was  very  needful.  The  man- 
ner of  extracting  opium  from  poppies  was 
of  necessity  crude,  in  our  hedged-around 
situation.  It  was,  indeed,  simple  in  the 
extreme.  The  heads  or  bulbs  of  the  pop- 
pies were  plucked  when  ripe,  the  capsules 
pierced  with  a large-sized  sewing-needle, 
and  the  bulbs  placed  in  some  small  vessel 
(a  cup  or  saucer  would  answer)  for  the 
opium  g-um  to  exude  and  to  become  in- 
spissated by  evaporation.  The  soporific 
influence  of  this  drug  was  not  excelled  by 
that  of  the  imported  article. 

Bicarbonate  of  soda,  which  had  been  in 
use  for  raising  bread  before  the  war,  be- 
came “a  thing  of  the  past”  soon  after  the 
blockade  began ; but  it  was  not  long  ere 
some  one  found  out  that  the  ashes  of  corn- 
cobs possessed  the  alkaline  property  essen- 


48  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

tial  for  raising  dough.  Whenever  “ soda  ” 
was  needed,  corn  was  shelled,  care  being 
taken  to  select  all  the  red  cobs,  as  they 
were  thought  to  contain  more  carbonate  of 
soda  than  white  cobs.  When  the  cobs  were 
burned  in  a clean  swept  place,  the  ashes 
were  gathered  up  and  placed  in  a jar  or 
jug,  and  so  many  measures  of  water  were 
poured  in,  according  to  the  quantity  of 
ashes.  When  needed  for  bread-making,  a 
teaspoonful  or  tablespoonful  of  the  alkali 
was  used  to  the  measure  of  flour  or  meal 
required.  - % 

Another  industry  to  which  the  need  of  . 
the  times  gave  rise  was  the  making  ’of 
pottery,  which,  although  not  food  or  cloth- 
ing, was  indispensable.  Of  course,  our 
earthenware  was  rough,  coarse,  and  brown  ; 
and  its  enameling  would  have  caused  a 
smile  of  disdain  from  the  ancient  Etrus- 
cans. Nevertheless,  w&  found  our  brown- 
glazed  plates,  cups  aTid  saucers,  washbowls 
and  pitchers,  and  milk  crocks  exceedingly 
convenient  and  useful  as  temporary  expe- 
dients, as  no  tin  pans  could  be  had  ; and 
we  were  thankful  that  we  could  make  this 
homely  ware. 

All  in  our  settlement  learned  to  card, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  49 

spin,  and  weave,  and  that  was  the  case 
with  all  the  women  of  the  South  when  the 
blockade  closed  us  in.  Now  and  then,  it 
is  true,  a steamer  would  run  the  blockade, 
but  the  few  articles  in  the  line  of  merchan- 
dise that  reached  us  served  only  as  a re- 
minder of  the  outside  world  and  of  our 
once  great  plenty,  now  almost  forgotten, 
and  also  more  forcibly  to  remind  us  that 
we  must  depend  upon  our  own  ingenuity 
to  supply  the  necessities  of  existence. 
Our  days  of  novitiate  were  short.  We 
soon  became  very  apt  at  knitting  and 
crocheting  useful  as  well  as  ornamental 
woolen  notions,  such  as  capes,  sacques, 
Vandykes,  shawls,  gloves,  socks,  stockings, 
and  men’s  suspenders.  The  clippings  of 
lambs’  wool  were  especially  used  by  us 
for  crocheting  or  knitting  shawls,  gloves, 
capes,  sacques,  and  hoods.  Our  needles 
for  such  knitting  were  made  of  seasoned 
hickory  or  oakwood  a foot  long,  or  even 
longer.  Lambs’  wool  clippings,  when 
carded  and  spun  fine  by  hand  and  dyed 
bright  colors,  were  almost  the  peer  of  the 
zephyr  wool  now  sold.  To  have  the  hanks 
spotted  or  variegated,  they  were  tightly 
braided  or  plaited,  and  so  dyed  ; when  the 


50  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

braids  were  unfolded  a beautiful  dappled 
color  would  result.  Sometimes  corn  husks 
were  wrapped  around  the  hanks  at  regular 
or  irregular  spaces  and  made  fast  with 
strong  thread,  so  that  when  placed  in  the 
dye  the  incased  parts,  as  was  intended, 
would  imbibe  little  or  no  dye,  and  when 
knit,  crocheted,  or  woven  would  present 
a clouded  or  dappled  appearance.  Hand- 
some mittens  were  knit  or  crocheted  of 
the  same  lambs’  wool  dyed  jet  black,  gray, 
garnet,  or  whatever  color  was  preferred  ; a 
bordering  of  vines,  with  green  leaves  and 
rosebuds  of  bright  colors,  was  deftly  knit- 
ted in  on  the  edge  and  top  of  the  gloves. 
Various  designs  of  flowers  or  other  pat- 
terns were  used  for  gloves,  and  were  so 
skillfully  knitted  in  that  they  formed  the 
exact  representation  of  the  copy  from 
which  they  were  taken.  For  the  border- 
ing of  capes,  shawls,  gloves,  hoods,  and 
sacques  the  wool  yarn  was  dyed  red,  blue, 
black,  and  green.  Of  course,  intermediate 
colors  were  employed  in  some  cases.  The 
juice  of  poke  berries  dyed  a red  as  bright  as 
aniline,  but  this  was  not  very  good  for  wash 
stuffs.  A strong  decoction  of  the  bark  of 
the  hickory-tree  made  a clear,  bright  green 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  5 I 

on  wool,  when  alum  could  be  had  as  a mor- 
dant ; sometimes  there  were  those  who,  by 
some  odd  chance,  happened  to  have  a bit 
of  alum. 

There  grew  in  some  spots  in  the  woods, 
though  very  sparsely,  a weed  about  a foot 
and  a half  high,  called  “the  queen’s  de- 
light,” which  dyed  a jet  black  on  wool. 
We  have  frequently  gone  all  of  two  miles 
from  our  home,  and,  after  a wide  range  of 
the  woods,  would  perhaps  secure  only  a 
small  armful  of  this  precious  weed.  We 
did  not  wonder  at  the  name,  it  was  so 
scarce  and  rare,  as  well  as  the  only  one  of 
all  the  weeds,  roots,  bark,  leaves,  or  ber- 
ries that  would  dye  jet  black.  The  indigo 
blue  of  our  make  would  dye  blue  of  any 
shade  required,  and  the  hulls  of  walnuts 
a most  beautiful  brown  ; so  that  we  were 
not  lacking  for  bright  and  deep  colors  for 
borderings. 

Here  again  a pleasant  rivalry  arose,  as 
to  who  could  form  the  most  unique  bor- 
dering for  capes,  shawls,  and  all  such 
woolen  knit  or  crocheted  clothing.  There 
were  squares,  diamonds,  crosses,  bars,  and 
designs  of  flowers  formed  in  knitting  and 
in  crocheting. 


52  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

We  were  our  own  wool-sorters,  too,  and 
after  the  shearing  had  first  choice  of  the 
fleeces.  All  the  fine,  soft,  silky  locks  of 
wool  were  selected  for  use  in  knitting  and 
crocheting. 

Our  shoes,  particularly  those  of  women 
and  children,  were  made  of  cloth,  or  knit. 
Some  one  had  learned  to  knit  slippers,  and 
it  was  not  long  before  most  of  the  women 
of  our  settlement  had  a pair  of  slippers 
on  the  knitting  needles.  They  were  knit 
of  our  homespun  thread,  either  cotton  or 
wool,  which  was,  for  slippers,  generally 
dyed  a dark  brown,  gray,  or  black.  When 
taken  off  the  needles,  the  slippers  or 
shoes  were  lined  with  cloth  of  suitable 
texture.  The  upper  edges  were  bound 
with  strips  of  cloth,  of  color  to  blend  with 
the  hue  of  the  knit  work.  A rosette  was 
formed  of  some  stray  bits  of  ribbon,  or 
scraps  of  fine  bits  of  merino  or  silk,  and 
placed  on  the  uppers  of  the  slippers  ; then 
they  were  ready  for  the  soles. 

We  explored  the  seldom-visited  attic  and 
lumber-room,  and  overhauled  the  contents 
of  old  trunks,  boxes,  and  scrap-bags  for 
pieces  of  cassimere,  merino,  broadcloth,  or 
other  heavy  fine  twilled  goods,  to  make 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  53 

our  Sunday  shoes,  as  we  could  not  afford 
to  wear  shoes  of  such  fine  stuff  every  day  ; 
home-woven  jeans  and  heavy,  plain  cloth 
had  to  answer  for  every-day  wear.  When 
one  was  so  fortunate  as  to  get  a bolt  of 
osnaburgs,  scraps  of  that  made  excellent 
shoes  when  colored.  What  is  now  called 
the  “ base-ball  shoe  ” always  reminds  me  of 
our  war-time  colored  osnaburgs,  but  ours 
did  not  have  straps  of  leather  like  those 
which  cross  the  base-ball  shoe.  Our  slip- 
pers and  shoes  which  were  made  of  fine 
bits  of  cloth,  cost  us  a good  deal  of  labor 
in  binding  and  stitching  with  colors  and 
thread  to  blend  with  the  material  used, 
before  they  were  sent  to  the  shoemaker  to 
have  them  soled. 

Sometimes  we  put  on  the  soles  ourselves 
by  taking  wornout  shoes,  whose  soles  were 
thought  sufficiently  strong  to  carry  another 
pair  of  uppers,  ripping  the  soles  off,  pla- 
cing them  in  warm  water  to  make  them 
more  pliable  and  to  make  it  easier  to  pick 
out  all  the  old  stitches,  and  then  in  the 
same  perforations  stitching  our  knit  slip- 
pers or  cloth-made  shoes.  We  also  had  to 
cut  out  soles  for  shoes  from  our  home- 
tanned  leather,  with  the  sole  of  an  old  shoe 


54  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

as  our  pattern,  and  with  an  awl  perforate 
the  sole  for  sewing  on  the  upper.  I was 
often  surprised  at  the  dexterity  with  which 
we  could  join  soles  and  uppers  together, 
the  shoe  being  reversed  during  the  stitch- 
ing, and  when  finished  turned  right  side 
out  again  ; and  I smile  even  now  when  I 
remember  how  we  used  to  hold  our  self- 
made  shoes  at  arm’s  length  and  say,  as 
they  were  inspected  : “ What  is  the  block- 
ade to  us,  so  far  as  shoes  are  concerned, 
when  we  can  not  only  knit  the  uppers,  but 
cut  the  soles  and  stitch  them  on  ? Each 
woman  and  girl  her  own  shoemaker  ; away 
with  bought  shoes  ; we  want  none  of 
them  ! ” But  alas,  we  really  knew  not  how 
fickle  a few  months  would  prove  that  we 
were. 

Our  sewing-thread  was  of  our  own  make 
Spools  of  “ Coats’  ” thread,  which  was  uni- 
versally used  in  the  South  before  the  war, 
had  long  been  forgotten.  For  very  fine 
sewing-thread  great  care  had  to  be  used  in 
drawing  the  strand  of  cotton  evenly,  as 
well  as  finely.  It  was  a wearisome  task, 
and  great  patience  had  to  be  exercised,  as 
there  was  continual  snapping  of  the  fine 
hand  - spun  thread.  From  broaches  of 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  55 

such  spun  sewing-thread  balls  of  the  cot- 
ton were  wound  from  two  to  three  strands 
double,  according  as  coarse  or  fine  thread 
was  needed.  The  ball  was  then  placed  in 
a bowl  of  warm  soapsuds  and  the  thread 
twisted  on  to  a bobbin  of  corn  husks  placed 
on  the  spindle  of  the  wheel.  During  the 
process  of  twisting  the  thread  a miniature 
fountain  would  be  set  playing  from  the 
thread  as  it  twirled  upon  the  spindle. 
Bunch  thread  from  the  cotton  mill,  num- 
ber twelve,  made  very  strong  sewing- 
thread,  but  little  could  we  afford  of  that ; 
it  was  exceedingly  scarce.  When  the  web 
of  cloth,  especially  that  of  factory  bunch 
thread,  had  been  woven  as  closely  up  as 
the  sley  and  harness  would  permit  the 
warp  opening  for  the  shuttle  to  pass 
through,  the  ends  of  the  weaver’s  threads, 
or  thrums,  generally  a yard  long  when 
taken  from  around  the  large  cloth  beam, 
would  be  cut  from  the  cloth  and  made  into 
sewing-thread.  We  spent  many  evenings 
around  the  fire,  if  winter  time,  or  lamp  if 
summer  weather,  drawing  the  threads  sin- 
gly from  the  bunch  of  thrums  and  then 
tying  together  two  or  three  strands,  as  the 
thread  was  to  be  coarse  or  fine.  It  was 


56  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

also  wound  into  balls  and  twisted  in  the 
same  manner  as  other  sewing-thread.  The 
ball  would  be  full  of  knots,  but  a good 
needleful  of  thread,  perhaps  more,  could 
always  be  had  between  the  knots. 

There  were  rude  frames  in  most  peo- 
ple’s yards  for  making  rope  out  of  cotton 
thread  spun  very  coarse,  and  quite  a quan- 
tity of  such  rope  was  made  on  these  rop- 
erys.  A comical  incident  occurred  at  one 
of  the  rope-makings  which  I attended. 
One  afternoon,  I had  gone  out  in  the  yard 
with  several  members  of  the  household, 
to  observe  the  method  of  twisting  the  long 
coil  of  rope  by  a windlass  attached  to  one 
end  of  the  frame,  after  it  had  been  run  off 
the  broaches  on  to  the  frame.  Two  of  the 
smaller  girls  were  amusing  themselves  run- 
ning back  and  forth  under  the  rope  while 
it  was  being  slowly  twisted,  now  and  again 
giving  it  a tap  with  their  hands  as  they 
ducked  under  it,  when,  just  as  it  was  drawn 
to  its  tightest  tension,  it  parted  from  the 
end  of  the  frame  opposite  the  windlass, 
and  in  its  curved  rebound  caught  one  of 
the  little  girls  by  the  hair  of  her  head. 
There  was  “music  in  the  air”  for  some 
little  time,  for  it  was  quite  a task  to  free 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  57 

her  hair  from  the  hard  twisted  coils  of 
rope. 

Our  hats  and  bonnets  were  of  our  own 
manufacture,  for  those  we  had  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war  had  been  covered 
anew,  made  over,  turned,  and  changed  till 
none  of  the  original  remained.  As  we  had 
no  “ flowers  of  sulphur  ” to  bleach  our 
white  straw  bonnets  and  hats,  we  colored 
those  we  had  with  walnut  hulls,  and  made 
them  light  or  dark  brown,  as  we  wished. 
Then  we  ripped  up  our  tarlatan  party- 
dresses  of  red,  white,  blue,  or  buff,  some 
all  gold  and  silver  bespangled,  to  trim  hats 
with.  Neighbor  would  divide  with  neigh- 
bor the  tarlatan  for  trimming  purposes, 
and  some  would  go  quite  a distance  for 
only  enough  to  trim  a hat.  For  the 
plumes  of  our  hats  or  bonnets  the  feathers 
of  the  old  drake  answered  admirably,  and 
were  often  plucked,  as  many  will  remem- 
ber, for  that  very  purpose.  Quaker  or 
Shaker  bonnets  were  also  woven  by  the 
women  of  Alabama  out  of  the  bulrushes 
that  grew  very  tall  in  marshy  places. 
These  rushes  were  placed  in  the  opening 
of  the  threads  of  warp  by  hand,  and  were 
woven  the  same  as  if  the  shuttle  had 


58  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

passed  them  through.  Those  the  width 
of  the  warp  were  always  used.  The  bon- 
nets were  cut  in  shape  and  lined  with  tar- 
latan. 

The  skirt  of  the  Shaker  was  made  of 
single  sleyed  cloth,  as  we  called  it.  In 
common  woven  heavy  cloth  two  threads  of 
warp  were  passed  through  the  reeds  of  the 
sley.  For  the  skirts  of  our  bonnets  we 
wanted  the  cloth  soft  and  light,  hence 
only  one  thread  was  passed  through  the 
reeds,  and  that  was  lightly  tapped  by  the 
batten ; it  was  then  soft  and  yielding. 
When  the  cloth  was  dyed  with  willow 
bark,  which  colored  a beautiful  drab,  we 
thought  our  bonnets  equal  to  those  we  had 
bought  in  days  gone  by.  There  was  va- 
riety enough  of  material  to  make  hats  for 
both  men  and  women,  palmetto  taking  the 
lead  for  hats  for  Sunday  wear.  The  straw 
of  oats  or  wheat  and  corn  husks  were 
braided  and  made  into  hats.  Hats  which 
were  almost  everlasting,  we  used  to  think, 
were  made  of  pine  straw.  Hats  were  made 
of  cloth  also.  I remember  one  in  particu- 
lar of  gray  jeans,  stitched  in  small  dia- 
monds with  black  silk  thread.  It  was  as 
perfect  a hat  as  was  ever  moulded  by  the 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  59 

hatter,  but  the  oddness  of  that  hat  con- 
sisted in  its  being  stitched  on  the  sewing- 
machine  with  silk  thread.  All  sewing-ma- 
chines in  our  settlement  were  at  a stand- 
still during  the  period  of  the  war,  as  our 
home-made  thread  was  not  suited  to  ma- 
chines, and  all  sewing  had  to  be  done  by 
hand. 

We  became  quite  skilled  in  making  de- 
signs of  palmetto  and  straw  braiding  and 
plaiting  for  hats.  Fans,  baskets,  and  mats 
we  made  of  the  braided  palmetto  and 
straw  also.  Then  there  was  the  “ bonnet 
squash,”  known  also  as  the  “ Spanish 
dish-rag,”  that  was  cultivated  by  some  for 
making  bonnets  and  hats  for  women  and 
children.  Such  hats  presented  a fine  ap- 
pearance, but  they  were  rather  heavy. 
Many  would  make  the  frame  for  their  bon- 
nets or  hats,  then  cover  it  with  the  small 
white  feathers  and  down  of  the  goose,  color 
bright  red  with  the  juice  of  poke  berries, 
or  blue  with  indigo  mud,  some  of  the  larger 
feathers,  and  on  a small  wire  form  a wreath 
or  plume  with  bright  - colored  and  white 
feathers  blended  together  ; or,  if  no  wire 
was  convenient,  a fold  or  two  of  heavy 
cloth,  or  paper  doubled,  was  used  to  sew 


6o 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


the  combination  of  feathers  on  for  wreath, 
plume,  or  rosette.  Tastefully  arranged, 
this  made  a hat  or  bonnet  by  no  means 
rustic  looking. 


V. 


Willow  wickerwork  came  in  as  a new 
industry  with  us.  We  learned  to  weave 
willow  twigs  into  baskets  of  many  shapes 
and  sizes. 

A woman  of  our  settlement  wove  of  wil- 
low switches  a beautiful  and  ornate  body 
for  her  baby  carriage.  As  much,  she  said, 
to  show  what  she  could  make  out  of  willow 
withes,  as  for  the  real  use  of  her  baby. 

The  switches  were  gathered  when  the 
willows  were  flowering,  and  stripped  of 
bark  and  leaves  ; what  was  not  wanted  for 
immediate  use  was  put  by  in  bundles,  to  be 
used  in  our  leisure  hours.  When  placed  in 
warm  water  the  withes  were  soon  as  flex- 
ible as  if  freshly  gathered  and  peeled,  and 
were  as  easily  woven  into  varied  kinds  of 
wickerwork. 

Mrs.  G had  a flock  of  sixty  or  sev- 

enty head  of  geese.  A large  stream  of  clear 
water  ran  within  a stone’s  throw  of  the 
rear  of  the  dwelling,  through  what  was  the 


62 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


main  pasture-lot  for  the  geese.  Clear  pools 
of  water,  caused  by  the  sudden  bend  of  the 
stream,  rocks,  or  perhaps  a fallen  tree,  were 
formed  as  the  stream  wound  through  the 
pasture-lot,  in  which  the  geese  were  nearly 
all  the  time  swimming.  This  kept  their 
feathers  snowy  white.  Wishing  a finer 
grade  of  fans  than  we  had  made  of  braided 
palmetto  or  woven  rushes  or  pasteboard, 
it  was  not  long  ere  we  had  learned  to  put 
the  secondary  wing-feathers  of  geese  to 
that  use.  When  the  feathers  were  “ ripe  ” 
we  would  pluck  them,  being  very  careful  in 
the  plucking  to  string  on  a strong  thread 
the  feathers  one  by  one  as  they  were  taken 
out.  All  the  right  wing-feathers  were 
placed  on  one  string,  the  left  wing-feathers 
on  another  separate  string,  so  that  when 
we  were  ready  to  arrange  the  feathers  for 
making  fans,  each  feather  would  be  in  its 
proper  place,  just  as  drawn  from  the  wing 
of  the  goose,  and  would  therefore  have  the 
fitting  curve.  The  secondary  feathers  of 
both  wings  were  used  to  make  one  fan. 
Its  handles  were  of  cedar  or  pine  wood 
and  were  sometimes  made  on  the  “turn- 
er’s machine,”  but  oftener  we  whittled 
them  out  of  cedar  or  pine  wood  ourselves. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  63 

They  were  always  covered  with  scraps  of 
velvet,  silk,  cassimere,  or  merino,  and  bits 
of  old  faded  ribbon  dyed  some  bright  color. 
We  soon  became  adepts  in  the  art  of  mak- 
ing fans  out  of  the  wing-feathers  of  geese, 
and  beside  those  for  our  own  use  we  made 
and  sold  many  in  the  city  of  Eufaula  for 
ten,  fifteen,  and  twenty  dollars  apiece. 

A sister  of  Mrs.  G , who  lived  some 

little  distance  from  us,  and  who  owned  a 
large  flock  of  pea-fowls,  often  favored  her 
sister  with  the  more  valuable  dark  olive- 
green  wing-feathers  of  her  magnificent 
birds,  and  they  made  superb  fans.  I was 

remembered  by  Mrs.  G , and  was  given 

a select  pair  of  wing-feathers.  I gave  my 
best  skill  to  this  fan,  for  it  was  to  be  a 
present  to  my  mother.  The  handle  I cov- 
ered with  a piece  of  dark  green  silk  velvet 
for  which  I exchanged  a scrap  of  silk  of  a 
different  color,  so  as  to  have  an  exact 
blending  of  the  feathers  and  silk  velvet 
for  covering  the  handle.  On  either  side 
where  I had  joined  the  handle  and  feath- 
ers, I placed  a rosette  made  of  the  small 
green  and  blue  variegated  feathers  that 
adorn  the  neck  and  breast  of  the  pea-fowl. 
Two  buttons  cut  out  of  pasteboard  and  cov- 


64  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

ered  with  a bit  of  the  silk  velvet,  saved 
from  covering  the  handle,  were  placed  in 
the  centre  of  the  rosettes.  I think  it  would 
have  been  difficult  to  have  singled  out  that 
fan  as  not  imported.  I was  offered  thirty 
dollars  for  it  as  soon  as  it  was  completed. 
One  would  scarcely  believe  how  beautiful 
our  snow-white  fans  of  geese  feathers  were, 
with  their  large  rosettes  on  either  side, 
made  of  the  blue  and  green  small  feathers 
that  grace  the  neck  of  the  peacock.  We 
made  fans  also  of  gray  goose  feathers,  and 
from  feathers  out  of  turkeys’  wings  and 
tails  were  made  strong  substantial  fans,  for 
every-day  use  in  summer. 

An  amusing  incident  happened  one  day 
while  we  were  making  fans  of  the  feathers 
of  the  geese.  We  had  been  told  by  some 
one  that  if  we  would  tie  a strip  of  scarlet 
cloth  around  a goose’s  neck,  it  would  fly 
away  and  never  return.  Late  one  after- 
noon the  oldest  daughter  of  the  house  and 
I were  strolling  all  alone  in  the  pasture-lot 
where  the  geese  were  feeding  on  the  luxu- 
riant grass.  At  sight  of  the  sleek,  glossy 
flock  feeding  en  masse,  the  impulse  arose 
on  the  instant  to  put  to  the  test  the  roman- 
tic hearsay,  and  we  quickly  caught  a goose 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  65 

of  snowy  whiteness.  My  companion  then 
took  off  her  crimson  silk  belt  (a  relic  of 
ante-bellum  days).  We  tied  it  around  the 
anser’s  neck,  kneeling  on  the  soft  carpet 
of  grass,  one  holding  the  goose  by  the 
wings,  while  the  other  adjusted  the  belt; 
then  we  loosed  it,  expecting  to  see  the 
spread  of  wings  that  was  to  bear  it  from 
our  sight  forever.  But  nothing  of  the  kind 
happened.  It  stepped  cautiously  around 
with  its  neck  gracefully  curved  as  if  en- 
deavoring to  divine  the  mystery  of  the 
crimson  streamer,  while  the  entire  flock 
without  a single  exception  set  up  a hiss- 
ing and  cackling  that  was  almost  deafen- 
ing, and  with  necks  extended  began  to 
chase  the  goose  with  the  scarlet  pennant. 
The  loud  cackling  of  the  flock  awoke  the 
quiet  of  the  house,  and  soon  a negro  girl 
came  running,  sent  by  her  mistress,  to  see 
what  was  disturbing  the  geese.  The  leg- 
end had  proved  false  ; but  we  wondered 
not,  as  we  retraced  our  steps,  that  the  loud 
cackling  of  a flock  of  geese  in  Rome  be- 
trayed the  presence  of  the  Gauls  who  were 
about  to  storm  the  citadel. 

Mrs.  G promised  her  two  older 

daughters,  her  niece,  and  myself  a new 


66  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

home-woven,  home-spun  dress,  just  so  soon 
as  we  should  jointly  finish  the  make-up  of 
the  slaves’  fall  and  winter  clothing,  which 
we  joined  hands  forthwith  in  cutting  out. 
Two  suits  apiece  of  heavy  goods  were 
made  for  their  winter  wear,  and  two  suits 
apiece  of  material  not  so  heavy  for  their 
spring  and  summer  wear.  It  usually  took 
from  six  to  eight  weeks  of  cutting  out  and 
sewing  to  get  all  the  slaves  into  their  new 
garments.  We  were  ever  willing  to  lend 
our  aid  in  the  make-up  of  the  negroes’ 
clothing,  yet  the  promise  of  a new  home- 
spun  dress,  to  be  dyed  and  woven  as  best 
pleased  us  four,  aroused  our  latent  energy, 
and  we  soon  completed  the  task  without 
once  knowing  fatigue.  Then  our  home- 
spun  dresses  came  to  the  front.  There 
was  much  consulting,  advising,  and  draught- 
ing by  the  four,  before  we  had  decided  as 
to  the  color,  check,  or  stripe  we  should 
have  our  dresses  dyed  or  woven.  I well 
remember  the  color,  stripe,  and  check  — 
together  with  the  s-pangles  that  were  woven 
in  the  meshes  of  thread  — that  we  each 
made  choice  of.  The  warp  was  the  same 
for  all  four  dresses,  — nearly  solid  drab, 
with  the  exception  of  a narrow  stripe  of 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  67 

white  and  blue  threads  in  a group,  for 
every  twelve  or  fourteen  threads  of  drab, 
running  parallel  to  each  other  the  whole 
length  of  the  warp.  The  drab  was  dyed 
with  the  bark  of  the  willow-tree.  The 
hanks  of  thread  for  the  woof  of  my  dress 
were  closely  plaited  and  dyed  a deep,  clear 
blue  with  our  home-made  indigo.  When 
woven  it  presented  the  appearance  of 
“ cirro-cumulus  ” clouds.  The  niece  and 
one  of  the  daughters  betook  them  to  the 
garret  to  rummage  amongst  antique  silk 
and  woolen  garments  much  “ the  worse  for 
wear.”  Part  of  an  old  black  silk,  and  some 
red  scraps  of  merino,  and  a remnant  of  an 
old  blue  scarf,  was  what  they  decided  upon 
as  spangles  for  their  dresses,  and  both  were 
to  be  just  alike.  The  black  silk  and  red 
and  blue  were  cut  into  narrow  strips  ; the 
strips  were  again  cut  into  bits  from  a quar- 
ter to  half  an  inch  in  length  and  woven 
in  the  meshes  of  thread  the  whole  length 
of  their  dresses. 

The  black,  blue,  and  red  bits  of  color 
were  placed  in  by  hand,  varying  from  an 
inch  to  two  or  three  inches  apart.  Some- 
times the  bits  of  bright  color  were  placed 
in  so  as  to  form  a square,  diamond,  or  cross  ; 


68  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

sometimes  no  order  or  method  was  heeded, 
but  they  were  placed  in  on  the  “ crazy  ” 
plan  ; yet  when  all  the  tiny  bits  had  been 
placed  in  and  when  the  material  was  made 
up  into  the  dress,  it  presented  quite  a 
spangled  appearance.  The  other  daughter 
had  hers  woven  of  solid  drab,  of  willow-bark 
dye,  and  with  a narrow  stripe  of  blue  and 
white  running  the  length  of  it  in  the  warp; 
and  this  was  just  as  pretty  as  the  rest  of 
our  dresses,  that  had  given  a deal  of 
trouble. 

Buttons  for  our  dresses  were  our  next 
consideration,  and  we  had  quite  a debate 
on  this  weighty  subject,  as  our  substitutes 
for  buttons  and  material  for  making  them 
were  many  and  varied.  It  was  something 
bewildering  for  us  to  determine  finally  what 
sort  of  buttons  we  should  adopt. 

Rude  machines  were  devised  for  making 
buttons  of  wood  as  the  war  went  on,  and 
we  were  thrown  more  and  more  upon  our 
own  resources.  The  buttons  made  of  wood 
were  of  various  sizes,  and  were  strong 
and  lasting  for  heavy  goods,  especially 
the  clothing  for  the  slaves.  Sometimes 
we  would  get  the  wood  buttons,  polish 
them  with  a bit  of  sandpaper,  and  varnish 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  69 

them  with  a little  of  the  copal  varnish 
that  happened  to  be  on  hand  when  the  war 
began,  and  which  was  being  carefully  hus- 
banded ; our  buttons  thus  polished  and 
varnished  exhibited  some  likeness  to  those 
we  had  been  wont  to  buy  in  palmier  days. 
Many  a household  manufactured  its  own 
buttons.  They  were  made  of  cloth  cut 
round,  and  of  as  many  ply  as  was  neces- 
sary for  firmness.  Thick,  heavy  button- 
hole stitches  were  worked  all  around  the 
edge  with  thread  coarser  than  the  cloth  of 
which  the  button  was  made,  and  when 
these  were  stitched  on  firmly  there  was  no 
worry  about  the  washerwoman’s  breaking 
or  washing  them  off. 

Thread  that  we  spun  at  home  was  used 
for  making  buttons.  The  process  was  sim- 
ple. A small  reed,  or,  if  that  was  wanting, 
a large-sized  broom-straw,  could  be  used ; 
around  this  the  thread  for  such  buttons 
would  be  wound  till  of  sufficient  bulk  ; it 
was  then  slid  from  the  reed  ; the  button- 
hole stitch  was  used  here  again,  and  was 
thickly  worked  around  the  eyelet  made  by 
the  reed ; the  eyelet  was  crossed  with 
thread  stronger  than  that  of  which  the  but- 
ton was  formed,  for  the  purpose  of  attach- 


70  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

ing  it  to  the  garment.  Persimmon  seeds 
were  also  used  for  buttons  with  very  good 
success,  for  being  of  such  a tenacious  and 
solid  substance  they  could  be  put  on  cloth- 
ing that  required  washing.  Very  nice  but- 
tons were  also  shaped  out  of  pine  bark, 
and  were  covered  or  not,  just  as  one  liked, 
but  these  were  useless  on  garments  for 
wash.  The  shell  of  the  common  gourd 
was  almost  universally  used  at  the  South 
*--!  for  buttons  during  the  period  of  the  war  ; 
when  covered  with  strong  homespun  cloth 
they  could  stand  washing.  Pasteboard  was 
also  used  to  make  buttons.  We  have  often 
cut  in  different  shapes  and  sizes  paste- 
board and  the  shell  of  the  gourd  for  but- 
tons. We  would  have  them  round,  oval, 
square,  or  diamond  shaped,  then  cover 
neatly  with  cloth,  with  scraps  of  silk,  or 
with  fine  pieces  of  colored  woolen  goods, 
to  match  whatever  material  was  used  for 
dress  or  basque. 

Our  pasteboard  was  made  in  our  own 
homes.  I smile  even  now  when  I think  of 
that  crude  process.  We  used  old  papers 
and  worn  garments  and  a paste  made  of 
flour,  or  bolted  meal  sifted  through  fine 
cloth.  A paper  was  spread  on  a table, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  7 1 

paste  was  spread  evenly  and  smoothly  over 
the  surface  of  the  paper,  a layer  of  cloth 
just  the  width  and  length  of  the  paper  was 
laid  on,  another  coating  of  the  paste  fol- 
lowed, and  so  on,  alternating  with  paper, 
paste,  and  cloth,  until  the  required  thick- 
ness was  reached  ; then  with  a hot  smooth- 
ing-iron the  whole  was  pressed  till  perfectly 
dry,  smooth,  and  glossy,  and  we  had  paste- 
board adapted  for  all  household  needs. 

But  to  return  to  our  buttons.  They 
were  made  of  drab  thread,  and  after  we 
had  thickly  worked  the  button-hole  stitch 
around  the  eyelet,  each  took  thread  col- 
ored to  blend  with  the  warp  and  woof  and 
again  lightly  overcast  the  button,  so  that 
the  drab  showed  only  as  the  background. 
The  older  daughter  and  I overcast  ours 
with  blue  thread ; the  other  two  overcast 
theirs  with  red  thread.  It  was  then  fash- 
ionable to  place  straps  on  the  shoulder 
seams  of  ladies’  dresses,  with  generally 
from  four  to  six  buttons  on  the  straps. 
We  placed  straps  on  ours,  trimmed  with 
the  buttons  which  we  had  made,  and  they 
added  not  a little  to  the  finish. 

We  had  intended  to  wear  our  new  home- 
spuns to  the  village  church  the  Sunday 


72  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

after  completing  them.  Perhaps  there  was 
the  least  bit  of  vanity  in  our  thoughts  of 
how  we  should  appear  in  church  in  our 
first  home-woven  suits  ; palmetto  hats  that 
we  had  braided  and  made  with  our  own 
hands  ; slippers  that  we  had  knit,  with 
soles  cut  out  of  our  home-tanned  leather, 
and  on  which  we  had  with  our  own  hands 
joined  uppers  and  soles  together.  But 

“ The  best  laid  schemes  o’  mice  and  men 
Gang  aft  a-gley.” 

It  was  Saturday  night,  and  our  new  dresses 
had  been  pressed  with  the  smoothing-iron 
all  so  nicely  and  hung  on  hooks  alongside 
the  wall,  so  as  to  avoid  any  unnecessary 
creasing.  All  four  of  us  hung  up  the 
dresses  with  especial  care  just  before  we 
stepped  into  the  dining-room  to  have  our 
suppers.  “ Eliza  and  Mary  always  have 
something  new  and  unusual  in  the  make  of 
their  homespun  dresses,”  thought  we,  “but 
they  shall  be  surpassed  to-morrow.  Both 
teacher  and  pupils  were  at  an  age  then 
when  the  heart  is  keenly  desirous  for 
beauty  and  effect. 

Uncle  Ben  was  the  negro  man  who 
drove  the  carriage,  made  fires  night  and 
morning  in  all  the  rooms  of  the  house, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  73 

hoed  the  garden,  helped  Aunt  Phillis,  the 
cook,  who  was  his  wife,  and  did  chores  in 
general  around  the  house  and  yard.  Now 
it  happened,  as  Aunt  Phillis  afterward  told 
us,  that  Ben  had  made  his  plans  for  that 
very  Sunday  also.  He  was  to  meet  by 
agreement  with  the  negroes  of  contiguous 
plantations  in  a swamp  not  far  distant 

from  the  negro  quarter  on  Mr.  G ’s 

plantation,  to  engage  in  games  with 
cards.  Their  masters  of  course  knew 
naught  of  it,  for  they  would  not  have  per- 
mitted it.  In  passing  round  the  house 
and  yard  Uncle  Ben  heard  us  say  we  were 
going  to  the  village  church  that  particular 
Sunday,  and  that  we  should  be  sure  to 
wear  our  new  home  - woven  suits.  He 
knew  he  would  have  to  drive  the  carriage, 
and  I suppose  he  thought  if  it  had  not 
been  for  our  new  dresses  of  the  home- 
made cloth,  like  as  not  we  would  not  want 
to  drive  ; for  often  we  did  not  use  the  car- 
riage on  Sundays,  but  preferred  walking 
to  the  quiet  country  church  and  Sabbath- 
school  scarce  a mile  from  my  employer’s 
residence. 

While  we  were  all  at  the  supper-table 
that  Saturday  night,  Ben,  as  usual,  was 


74  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

making  the  round  of  the  rooms,  replenish- 
ing all  the  fires.  He  reached  our  room. 
There  were  the  four  dresses  hanging  plain 
to  view,  and  he  thought  of  having  to  drive 
the  carriage  on  the  morrow.  One  of  the 
little  girls  had  taken  a bath  and  left  a 
large  basin  of  water,  with  the  sponge  in  it, 
near  the  fire-place.  Ben  gathered  up  the 
sponge,  pressed  some  of  the  water  from  it, 
wiped  the  soot  from  the  chimney’s  back, 
and  smeared  our  prided  homespun  gar- 
ments to  his  heart’s  content ! Then  he 
carefully  disposed  the  skirts  so  as  to  ef- 
fectually conceal  the  smut.  It  being  Sat- 
urday night,  he  expected  that  we  could  not 
have  the  much-soiled  dresses  ready  for 
Sunday’s  wear,  even  if  we  should  discover 
the  smut  that  evening. 

When  we  went  back  to  our  rooms  from 
the  supper-table  our  first  glance  was  to- 
ward our  much-valued  dresses,  which  ap- 
peared to  hang  just  as  we  had  left  them. 
But  before  we  had  seated  ourselves,  sur- 
prise was  manifested  at  some  large  flakes 
of  soot  on  the  hearth  and  floor  and  near  to 
our  precious  garments.  One  of  us  called 
attention  to  the  sponge,  which  was  almost 
black,  floating  in  the  basin  of  water.  The 
fire,  beginning  to  burn  anew,  showed  the 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  75 

chimney’s  back  almost  free  of  soot,  and 
scarcely  dry  from  the  sponge.  Thinking 
no  harm  had  befallen  our  homespuns,  I 
casually  touched  the  folds  of  mine,  when 
several  flakes  of  soot  fell  to  the  floor.  Im- 
mediately I loosed  wide  the  folds  of  the 
skirt,  when,  lo  ! such  a smut  never  before 
nor  since  have  I seen,  from  waist  line  to 
the  hem,  one  whole  width  all  begrimed 
with  scot.  The  other  girls  flew  in  a trice 
to  their  dresses,  and  as  quickly  unloosed 
the  folds  of  their  skirts.  Lo  ! behold,  it 
was  smut,  smut,  soot,  soot,  broad  and 
long  ! We  knew  in  an  instant  it  was  Ben, 
for  he  was  often  “contrary”  about  driving 
the  carriage,  especially  if  he  had  made 
plans  for  his  own  amusement.  Irritation 
and  disappointment  were  the  prominent 
feelings  at  first,  augmented  by  the  thought 
that  our  homespuns  would  never  look  de- 
cently again,  but  our  vexed  feelings  soon 
gave  way  to  ringing  laughter  as  we  pic- 
tured to  ourselves  Uncle  Ben  in  the  midst 
of  smutting  our  dearly-prized  garments. 
He  deserved  punishment,  surely,  but  be- 
yond a good  scolding  no  correction  was  ad- 
ministered, although  Aunt  Phillis  declared 
that  “ Massa  orter  half  kill  Ben  fur  sicher 
mean  trick.” 


VI. 


One  blustering,  drizzling  March  night 
at  our  home  in  Alabama  the  two  little 
daughters  of  Uncle  Ben  and  Aunt  Phillis, 
who,  since  their  early  childhood  had  been 
brought  up  in  Mr.  G ’s  house  as  ser- 

vants, came  rushing  into  our  room  with 
the  startling  intelligence  that  “ Daddy ’s 
arter  mammy ; he ’s  got  an  axe  in  his  hand 
and  says  he ’s  gwine  ter  kill  her  dis  berry 
night.”  Where  Phillis  was  hiding  the  lit- 
tle girls  knew  not.  She  was  not  in  the 
kitchen,  nor  in  her  cabin  ; neither  had  she 
come  into  the  house  to  her  master  and 
mistress.  “ Her ’s  dodgin’  ’round  to  keep 
out’en  daddy’s  way,”  the  younger  of  Phil- 
lis’s girls  declared.  We  all  became  deeply 
interested  in  Aunt  Phillis’s  troubles,  and 
dropped  our  knitting  and  crocheting  in 
severe  disapprobation  of  the  way  in  which 
Ben  was  treating  his  helpmate,  and  our 
censure  was  the  more  emphasized  when 
we  remembered  the  smutting  he  had  given 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  77 

our  dresses.  The  smaller  boys  and  girls 
of  the  household  came  also  into  our  room 
to  hear  Martha  and  Maria  tell  of  Ben’s 
chasing  Phillis  around  with  the  axe,  and 
soon  we  had  ten  all  told  around  the  fire, 
all  gathered  close  together. 

The  mournful  echoing  and  reechoing  of 
the  March  wind  as  it  rushed  past  in  fitful, 
heavy  gusts,  sometimes  rattling  the  win- 
dow panes,  then  dying  away  through  the 
dark  pine  forests  that  bounded  one  side 
of  the  mansion,  added  not  a little  to  our 
excited  imaginings,  and  we  lapsed  into  a 
kind  of  dread  silence,  when  all  of  a sudden 
an  unearthly  scream  came  from  just  be- 
neath our  feet,  it  seemed,  and  we  sprang 
up  instantly.  Martha,  who  had  recognized 
her  mother’s  voice,  at  one  bound  passed 
through  our  room  door  to  the  rear  hall 
door,  which  she  opened  in  a twinkling  and 
Aunt  Phillis  flew  into  our  room.  We 
slammed  the  door  to  on  the  instant,  think- 
ing Uncle  Ben  was  at  his  wife’s  heels,  and 
that  one  of  us  might  catch  the  hurl  of  the 
axe  intended  for  Phillis.  We  braced  our 
shoulders  against  the  door  with  all  our 
strength,  but  Uncle  Ben  was  prudent 
enough  not  to  try  to  force  an  entrance. 


78 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


Mrs.  G , hearing  our  screams,  im- 

agined that  the  house  had  caught  fire. 
She  sped  to  our  room  and  reached  the 
door  just  as  we  were  in  the  act  of  slam- 
ming it  shut,  so  that  it  caught  her  left 
hand  just  across  the  knuckles,  and  she  was 
held  all  of  a minute  before  she  could  make 
herself  heard  in  the  great  uproar.  The 
third  finger  of  her  left  hand  was  badly- 
crushed,  and  to  this  day  shows  the  imprint 
of  that  accident.  Mr.  G also  has- 

tened to  our  room,  and,  finding  that  Ben 
was  after  Phillis  with  an  axe,  got  his  gun, 
and  from  the  rear  hall  door  peered  forth 
into  the  bleak  night  for  Ben  ; but  no  Ben 
could  be  seen  or  heard.  When  the  Ba- 
bel-like confusion  of  our  tongues  had  some- 
what stilled,  Aunt  Phillis  was  called  upon 
to  explain  her  piercing  scream.  She  said 
that  as  she  was  putting  her  kitchen  in  or- 
der for  breakfast  in  the  morning,  Ben  had 
told  her  he  was  going  to  split  her  head 
open  that  very  night  with  the  axe,  and 
went  to  the  wood-pile  for  the  axe.  Then 
Aunt  Phillis  slipped  round  on  the  front  col- 
onnade next  her  mistress’  room,  thinking  if 
Ben  should  come  for  her  there  she  could 
quickly  spring  into  that  room.  From  the 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  79 

front  colonnade  she  saw  Ben  go  into  the 
kitchen  axe  in  hand.  Not  finding  her 
there,  he  came  out  again  and  went  to  the 
rear  of  the  house.  Although  the  night 
was  dark,  she  imagined  her  dress  was  of 
light  enough  color  to  betray  her  to  Ben, 
should  he  come  on  that  side  of  the  house. 
She  then  thought  of  our  room,  which,  on 
account  of  an  incline  in  the  yard  toward 
the  front  gate,  was  not  raised  as  high  off 
the  ground  by  two  or  three  feet  as  the 
rooms  on  the  front  colonnade.  Aunt  Phil- 
lis reasoned  that  if  she  crept  under  the 
house  as  far  as  our  room,  where  a good  fire 
was  always  burning  in  the  winter  time, 
she  could  keep  warm  seated  at  the  base  of 
the  chimney,  and  if  need  be,  sleep  there  all 
night,  secure  from  the  fury  of  Ben.  So 
she  crawled  as  far  down  as  our  room,  and 
made  herself  as  comfortable  as  the  ground 
would  permit,  chuckling  the  while  at  Ben’s 
prowling  around  for  her  in  the  raw  March 
wind  and  rain.  She  was  the  more  content 
as  she  knew  her  two  girls  slept  in  her  mis- 
tress’s room.  To  use  her  own  words,  “ I 
was  gitten  good  and  warm  ’gin  the  bricks 
o’  de  chimbley,  and  feeling  sort  0’  sleepy, 
soon  was  nodden.  I jest  happened  to 


8o 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


open  my  eyes  as  I raised  my  head  of  a 
sudden,  and  bless  God ! dar  was  Ben 
crawlin’  right  up  to  me  on  his  knees,  wid 
de  axe  in  his  hand.  I tell  yer,  I never 
knows  how  I did  got  out  fro’  under  dar.” 

Uncle  Ben,  despite  his  eccentricities, 
lives  yet  on  the  old  plantation  with  his 

mistress ; but  Mr.  G died  years  gone 

by  now.  No  one  bears  any  ill-will,  I am 
sure,  to  venerable  Uncle  Ben,  not  even 
those  of  us  who  well  remember  his  mis- 
deeds ; and  this  episode  of  those  days  of 
civil  strife  — an  episode  connected  with 

the  two  oldest  daughters  of  Mrs.  G , 

her  niece,  and  myself,  — stands  out  with 
clear  distinctness,  though  more  than  twenty 
years  have  gone. 

While  knitting  around  the  fireside  one 
f night,  talking  of  what  we  had  done,  and 
\ could  yet  accomplish,  in  industries  called 
into  existence  by  the  war  and  blockade, 
we  agreed  then  and  there  that  each  of 
us  four  could  and  would  card  and  spin 
enough  warp  and  woof  to  weave  a dress 
apiece.  This  proved  a herculean  task  for 
us,  for  at  that  time  we  barely  knew  how 
to  card  and  spin.  Mrs.  G smiled  in- 

credulously, we  thought,  but  kindly  prom- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  8 1 

ised  to  have  the  dresses  dyed  and  woven, 
in  case  we  should  card  and  spin  them. 
The  older  daughter  and  I elected  to  work 
together.  I was  to  card  and  spin  eight- 
een yards  of  warp  — nine  yards  of  our 
wide  heavy  homespun  being  then  ample 
enough  for  one  plain  dress.  Of  course  we 
used  the  same  style  the  whole  four  years 
of  the  war,  in  our  secluded  settlement  ; not 
a fashion  plate  or  “ ladies’  magazine  ” did 
we  see  during  that  entire  period,  so  that 
we  were  but  little  troubled  as  to  “ latest 
styles.”  My  companion  in  work  was  to 
card  and  spin  eighteen  yards  of  filling. 
Similarly  the  other  daughter  and  her 
cousin  agreed  as  to  carding  and  spinning 
their  warp  and  woof.  We  imposed  the 
number  of  cuts  each  should  spin,  agreeing 
that  each  should  spin  one  cut  every  night 
after  our  suppers,  Saturday  night  excepted. 
Every  Saturday  we  were  to  card  and  were 
spin  six  cuts  apiece,  till  eighteen  yards 
finished. 

Inasmuch  as  it  took  about  six  cuts  of  our 
soft  spun  woof  to  make  one  yard  of  thick 
heavy  cloth,  and  about  the  same  of  hard 
twisted  warp,  we  were  not  long  in  num- 
bering the  weeks  we  should  be  in  spinning 


82 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


the  four  dresses  ; and  of  course,  going  to 
school  or  teaching  school,  and  spinning 
only  nights  and  Saturdays,  our  progress 
on  the  eighteen  yards  was  necessarily  slow. 
We  thought,  however,  that  we  would  have 
them  ready  for  the  loom  in  ten  weeks  at 

the  farthest.  Mrs.  G said  if  we  had 

them  ready  to  dye  and  weave  in  three  or 
four  months  we  would  do  well.  But  there 
were  those  who  could  card  and  spin  from 
one  to  two  yards  of  cloth  per  day  and  do  it 
easily. 

On  a certain  Monday  evening,  after  we 
had  supper,  we  began  quite  merrily  the 
carding  and  spinning  for  our  four  dresses, 
and  made  our  first  cut  of  thread  by  the 
number  of  rolls  we  had  carded  and  spun. 
I remember  that  seventy  rolls  carded 
evenly  and  smoothly,  if  of  medium  size, 
would  reel  one  cut  of  thread.  We  invaria- 
bly added  two  or  three  rolls  to  the  seventy 
for  good  measure.  Our  rolls  at  first  were 
oddly  shaped,  often  evoking  ridicule,  but 
we  soon  learned  to  mould  them  to  perfec- 
tion. 

Our  first  Saturday  to  spin  was  looked 
forward  to  with  great  expectations  by  the 
four,  as  six  cuts  were  marked  down  for 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  83 

that  day.  I smile  even  now,  as  memory 
wanders  back  over  the  tide  of  years,  to 
think  how,  all  during  the  week  preceding 
that  Saturday,  I was  resolving  in  my  mind 
to  far  outstrip  the  number  of  cuts  imposed 
as  our  task.  I kept  this  resolution  all  to 
myself,  inwardly  chuckling  at  the  grand 
surprise  I was  to  give  them  all  when  the 
day’s  work  should  be  finished  ; and  I did 
give  a surprise,  too,  but  in  a way  that  was 
by  no  means  pleasing  to  me. 

The  eagerly  wished  for  Saturday  dawned. 
Two  spinning-wheels  and  two  pair  of  cot- 
ton-cards, with  a basket  of  nice  white  lint 
cotton,  were  set  in  our  room  before  we  had 
risen  from  bed,  according  to  orders  de- 
livered the  evening  previous  ; and  as  the 
sun  rose  the  hum  of  the  spinning-wheels 
began,  as  we  had  the  night  before  carded 
enough  rolls  to  supply  us  with  material. 
Two  would  be  carding  rolls  and  two  spin- 
ning, and  by  alternating  between  carding 
rolls  and  spinning,  we  rested,  both  as  to 
standing  and  sitting,  discoursing  mean- 
while what  color,  or  what  variety  of  colors, 
these  self-spun  dresses  should  be  dyed ; 
whether  plain,  plaid,  checkered,  or  striped 
they  should  be  woven.  Now  and  then  the 


84  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

monotony  would  be  enlivened  by  snatches 
of  song;  merry  laughs  and  jests  went 
round  ; first  one  and  then  another  of  us 
would  cry  out  above  the  never  - ceasing 
humming  of  the  wheels,  “ I know  I shall 
have  my  six  cuts  by  the  time  the  sun  is 
down;”  and  I thought  to  myself,  but  did 
not  give  voice  to  the  words,  “ Should  n’t 
wonder  if  I have  seven  cuts  or  more,  when 
the  sun  sets.” 

Steadily  all  that  Saturday  was  heard  the 
tramp,  tramp,  as  we  marched  up  and  down 
the  floor  beside  our  spinning-wheels.  We 
were  glad  indeed  to  see  the  sun  sinking 
like  a huge  ball  of  fire  behind  the  green- 
topped  pines,  plain  to  view  from  the  win- 
dows of  our  room.  That  evening  the  words, 
“ The  night  cometh,  when  no  man  can 
work,”  had  for  us  a new  meaning.  We 
were  more  joyful,  I believe,  as  the  eve  was 
drawing  on,  than  we  had  been  at  dawn. 
We  were  wearied,  but  were  in  a fever  of 
anxiety  to  know  the  result  of  our  steady 
labor.  So  diligently  had  we  applied  our- 
selves that  two  carded  and  spun  while  two 
were  at  dinner  ; there  had  been  no  cessa- 
tion of  our  work. 

When  the  sun  set,  the  whirring  ceased, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  85 

and  gathering  up  our  broaches  which 
looked  like  so  many  small  pyramids,  we 
marched  Indian  file  to  the  sitting-room  for 

Mrs.  G to  reel  the  thread  we  had 

spun.  Our  broaches  had  to  be  placed  in  a 
basket  for  the  thread  to  be  run  off  as  it 
listed.  There  was  “ a scientific  way  ” of 
running  the  thread  on  to  the  bobbins, 
which  were  of  corn-husks  or  thick  paper, 
and  placed  on  the  spindle  of  the  wheel  for 
the  thread  to  be  run  on  to  form  the  broach. 
Any  one  at  all  experienced  in  spinning 
could  so  run  the  thread  on  the  broach  that 
in  reeling,  the  broach  being  held  at  the 
base  by  the  hand,  the  thread  would  run 
smoothly  off  the  apex  of  the  broach  with- 
out ever  a break  or  tangle  to  the  very  last 
strand.  We  had  not  run  our  thread  on  the 
broaches  with  the  same  amount  of  skill  we 
had  shown  in  spinning,  hence  there  was 
much  difficulty  in  reeling,  but  before  we 
had  finished  the  thirty-six  yards  of  cloth 
our  broaches  ceased  to  give  annoyance. 

It  was  decided  by  all  in  the  room  that 
my  broaches  must  be  the  first  reeled,  — 
how  strangely  these  names  sound  now,  then 
familiar  household  words,  “ broach,”  “ reel,” 
“ hank,”  “ rolls,”  “ card,”  “ warp,”  “ web 


86  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

of  cloth,”  and  so  on  ! With  no  little  pride 
I saw  my  great  day’s  work  sailing  round 
on  the  reel.  At  every  one  hundred  and 
twenty  rounds,  a sharp  click  of  the  reel, 
and  one  cut  would  be  told.  A thread  was 
looped  around  that  cut,  to  separate  it  from 
the  next  cut.  But  as  the  reel  gave  the 
second  sharp  click,  and  that  cut  was  looped, 
I saw  with  dismay  that  what  was  left  of  my 
broaches  would  barely  reel  another  cut.  I 
almost  held  my  breath  as  the  third  cut  was 
flying  round.  “ Shades  of  Pallas  ! ” thought 
I,  “ am  I to  have  only  three  cuts  ? ” Alas  ! 
click ! only  three  cuts  and  a few  strands  of 
thread  over.  How  glad  I was  that  I had 
not  voiced  in  the  household  my  being  so 
sure  of  seven  or  more  cuts  ! All  were 
quite  mystified  for  a few  moments  to  know 
why  after  such  a day’s  carding  and  spin- 
ning I should  have  fallen  so  short  of  the 
task  allotted  each  one,  and  which  was 
fairly  within  our  power.  Some  of  the  girls 
were  saying  “ I think  I won’t  have  my 

broaches  reeled.”  Mrs.  G , meanwhile, 

was  giving  my  small  hank  the  necessary 
loops  around  the  reel  before  removing,  and 
when  she  did  remove  my  hank  from  the 
reel  it  rolled  a ball  of  kinks  in  her  hands. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  87 

Having  been  warned  that  the  warp,  to  make 
it  strong,  required  much  more  twisting  than 
filling,  but  being  an  entire  novice  in  the 
art,  I had  given  the  thread  I spun  entirely 
too  much  twist,  — had  really  put  six  cuts 
in  three,  so  that,  after  all,  I had  not  done  so 
bad  a day’s  work,  and  could  join  as  heartily 
as  the  others  in  ridiculing  my  ball  of  kinks, 
as  it  passed  from  one  to  another  for  inspec- 
tion. 

The  other  warp  spinner  had  not  given 
her  thread  enough  twist  to  answer  for 
warp,  so  that  it  had  to  be  used  for  woof. 

Mrs.  G , dear  motherly  woman  that  she 

ever  was,  knowing  how  assiduously  we  had 
applied  ourselves  to  the  card  and  wheels, 
and  wishing  to  give  encouragement  to  our 
undertaking,  gave  to  each  of  us  unfortu- 
nates eight  cuts  of  warp  so  that  we  also 
closed  that  Saturday  night  rejoicing  with 
the  other  two  spinners,  who  had  made  just 
their  number  of  cuts.  But  as  I lay  down 
to  sleep,  it  was  with  the  thought  that  the 
twelve  labors  of  Hercules  were  as  nothing 
compared  to  the  eighteen  yards  of  warp- 
thread  which  I had  given  my  pledge  to 
card  and  spin. 

As  the  novelty  of  carding  and  spinning 


88 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


wore  off,  we  often  grew  weary  in  our  strife, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  all  four  of 
us  became  heartily  sick  of  our  agreement 
by  the  time  we  had  carded  and  spun  two 
weeks  at  night  and  two  Saturdays,  and 
never  another  Saturday  dawned  that  found 
us  so  eager  to  spin  as  did  the  first  one. 
Each  of  the  four  felt  inclined  to  withdraw 
from  the  compact,  but  that  was  never  ac- 
knowledged until  victory  had  crowned  our 
efforts. 


VII. 


As  no  muslin  could  be  bought  for  sum- 
mer wear,  and  our  home-made  cloth  was 
very  heavy  and  warm  for  hot  weather,  we 
women  of  southern  Alabama  devised  a plan 
for  making  muslin  out  of  our  own  home- 
spun  thread ; and  the  fact  that  it  was  made 
of  this  thread  added  not  a little  to  its  ex- 
cellence in  our  estimation. 

In  the  weaving  of  all  heavy,  thick  cloth, 
whether  plain  or  twilled,  two  threads,  some- 
times three,  were  always  passed  through 
the  reeds  of  the  sley,  when  the  warp  was 
put  in  the  loom  for  weaving  the  web  of 
cloth.  The  experiment  for  muslin,  and  it 
proved  quite  a success,  was  to  draw  the 
threads  of  warp  singly  through  the  reeds 
of  the  sley.  In  the  process  of  making 
muslin,  both  warp  and  woof  were  sized  with 
sizing  made  of  flour,  to  make  the  threads 
more  smooth  and  unbending ; whereas 
plain  cloth  had  only  the  warp  sized,  and 
that  with  sizing  made  of  Indian-meal. 


90  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

When  thread  for  the  muslin  was  beamed, 
and  one  single  thread  passed  through  the 
reeds  of  the  sley,  and  only  a slight  tap  of 
the  batten  given  as  the  shuttle  passed 
through  the  opening  with  its  quill  of  sized 
thread,  the  texture  was  thin  and  gauze-like, 
and  stood  out  like  any  real  muslin  stiffened 
with  starch. 

The  thread  for  our  muslins  was  dyed  a 
deep  plum  color.  In  the  case  of  each  of 
our  four  dresses,  the  warp  was  the  same : 
twelve  or  fourteen  threads  of  the  plum  color 
and  three  threads  of  white  alternating  with 
the  plum  color  and  white  thread  the  width 
and  length  of  the  cloth.  The  older  daugh- 
ter and  I had  ours  filled  in  solid  with  plum 
color,  which,  with  the  narrow  white  stripes 
in  the  warp,  made  a very  neat  dress.  The 
two  other  girls  had  theirs  checked  with 
white,  so  as  to  form  a square  with  the 
white  stripe  in  the  warp  ; then  small  bits 
of  crimson  merino  were  placed  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  square.  Our  muslins  reminded 
me  of  “Swiss  muslins,”  with  their  raised 
flowers  of  silk  or  fine  wool  thread.  When 
we  first  appeared  in  them,  they  were  mis- 
taken for  the  genuine  imported  muslins. 

Soon  after  completing  and  wearing  our 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  9 1 

home-made  muslins,  news  came  into  our 
settlement  that  a steamer  had  run  the 
blockade,  and  that  the  city  of  Eufaula  had 
secured  some  bolts  of  prints  and  other  no- 
tions. The  Saturday  following  the  report, 

Mr.  G ordered  Ben  to  harness  up  the 

horses,  and  we  were  driven  to  Eufaula,  not 
to  buy,  but  simply  to  have  a look  at  these 
imports.  Sure  enough,  on  the  shelves  in 
the  store  that  had  long  lain  empty,  there 
were  tastefully  disposed  a few  bolts  of  Eng- 
lish prints,  some  ladies’  straw  hats,  a bolt  or 
two  of  fine  bleached  stuff,  some  calico,  and 
a few  pairs  of  ladies’  shoes.  These  were 
the  magnets  which  had  drawn  us  eleven 
miles  ! We  had  fondly  imagined  ourselves 
satisfied  with  our  home-made  cloth,  and 
had  said  of  it,  as  David  of  the  sword  of 
Goliath,  “ There  is  none  like  that ; give  it 
me.”  When  we  had  held  aloft  our  knit  and 
cloth-made  shoes  and  slippers,  with  the 
words,  “ What  do  we  care  for  the  blockade 
when  we  can  make  such  as  these?”  we 
had  little  dreamed  that  our  firmness  would 
so  suddenly  collapse  before  about  three 
bolts  of  calico  and  a few  pairs  of  black  mo- 
rocco shoes,  lined  with  red  and  deep  blue 
leather,  laced  high  and  scalloped  around 


92  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

the  top  edge.  Yet  so  it  was,  for  when  the 
merchant  unfolded  to  our  view  his  brand- 
new  prints,  looking  so  fresh  and  novel,  we 
four  had  nine  yards  apiece  cut  off,  paying 
twelve  dollars  per  yard  for  it.  It  was 
something  over  a yard  wide,  and  as  we 
knew  nothing  of  the  ruffling,  puffing,  plait- 
ing, tucking,  or  shirring  of  overskirts  or 
polonaises  outside  the  blockade,  nine  yards 
were  amply  sufficient  for  a dress. 

The  design  of  that  print  is  yet  vivid  to 
my  memory.  The  background  was  a pale 
blending  of  violet  with  white  ; the  fore- 
ground was  dotted  with  violets  of  a deep 
purple  color.  I bought  the  same  day  a 
plain  brown  straw  hat,  paying  one  hundred 
dollars  for  it,  and  a half  quire  of  small 
white  note-paper  for  forty  dollars.  A pair 
of  morocco  gaiters  cost  one  of  the  daugh- 
ters three  hundred  and  seventy-five  dollars. 
We  surely  will  be  pardoned,  if  we  felt  some 
pride  in  wearing  muslins  that  we  had  manu- 
factured with  our  own  hands,  and  fresh  new 
calicoes  which  had  cost  each  of  us  one  hun- 
dred and  eight  dollars. 

Our  neighbors,  as  soon  as  it  was  noised 
about  in  that  quiet  settlement  (where  it 
seemed  almost  impossible  for  tidings  of 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


93 


the  outside  world  to  come)  that  we  had 
new  store-bought  calicoes,  all  paid  us  a visit 
in  order  that  they  might  see  how  a new 
print  looked  amidst  so  much  home-woven 
cloth  ; and  a bit  of  the  scraps  left  was  given 
each  visitor.  I sent  a small  scrap  of  my 
new  calico — our  war-time  calicoes,  as  we 
then  and  afterward  called  them  — in  a let- 
ter to  my  relatives  in  Georg  ' 


any  one  was  so  fortunate 


new  print,  small  scraps  of  it  were  sent  in 
letters  to  friends  and  relatives,  so  rare  were 
new  calicoes. 

Indeed,  it  was  not  at  all  uncommon  for 
friends  or  relatives  to  send  small  samples 
of  new  homespun  cloth  to  one  another  in 
letters  whenever  what  was  thought  to  be  a 
particularly  good  pattern  had  been  devised, 
or  the  colors  were  exceptionally  brilliant. 

A woman  who  was  a neighbor  of  ours 
made  herself  what  really  was  an  elegant 
dress  for  the  times.  The  material  was  an 
old  and  well-worn  black  silk  dress,  alto- 
gether past  renovating,  and  fine  white  lint 
cotton.  The  silk  was  all  ripped  up,  and 
cut  into  narrow  strips,  which  were  all  rav- 
eled and  then  mixed  with  the  lint  cot- 
ton and  passed  through  the  cotton  cards 


94 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


two  or  three  times,  so  as  to  have  the  mix- 
ture homogeneous.  It  was  then  carded 
and  spun  very  fine,  great  pains  being 
taken  in  the  spinning  to  have  no  uneven- 
ness in  the  threads.  Our  neighbor  man- 
aged to  get  for  the  warp  of  her  mixed  silk 
and  cotton  dress  a bunch  of  number  twelve 
thread,  from  cotton  mills  in  Columbus, 
Georgia,  fifty  miles  from  our  settlement, 
and  generally  a three  days’  trip.  She 
dyed  the  thread,  which  was  very  fine  and 
smooth,  with  the  barks  of  the  sweet-gum 
and  maple  trees,  which  made  a beautiful 
gray.  Woven  into  cloth,  it  was  soft  and 
silky  to  the  touch,  and  of  a beautiful  color. 
It  was  corded  with  the  best  pieces  of  the 
worn  silk,  and  trimmed  with  pasteboard 
buttons  covered  with  some  of  the  same 
silk. 

Some  very  rich -appearing  and  service- 
able winter  woolen  dresses  were  made  of 
the  wool  of  white  and  brown  sheep  mixed, 
carded,  spun  and  woven  just  so  ; then  long 
chains  of  coarser  spun  wool  thread  dyed 
black  and  red  were  crocheted  and  braided 
in  neat  designs  on  the  skirt,  sleeves,  and 
waist  of  these  brown  and  white  mixed 
dresses  of  wool. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  95 

Of  course  braid  and  tape  could  not  be 
bought,  nor  could  we  weave  that  sufficiently 
narrow  to  make  a neat  appearance  on  dress 
goods ; but  we  soon  found  that  long  chains 
of  crochet-thread  would  answer  nicely  for 
braiding.  Balls  of  it  were  crocheted  of  va- 
rious colors  ; black,  white,  red,  blue,  and 
dark  brown  were  the  colors  most  used.  It 
was  braided  on  in  various  ways  ; sometimes 
singly,  at  times  we  would  sew  three  or  four 
chains  together  of  colors  to  blend,  making 
the  tape  an  inch  or  more  wide.  And  thus 
it  was  placed  upon  our  dresses. 

The  extent  and  variety  of  our  cloth 
manufacture,  our  fertility  in  making  de- 
signs, our  different  ways  of  weaving,  were 
really  remarkable.  We  made  cloth  in 
stripes  broad  and  narrow,  and  in  checks 
wide  and  small.  We  made  plain  cloth, 
twilled  cloth,  jeans,  and  salt-and-pepper 
cloth,  the  latter  by  alternating  one  thread 
of  white  and  one  thread  of  black  the  width 
and  length  of  the  warp,  and  the  same  in 
the  woof.  This  was  a slow  process,  as  the 
shuttles,  with  the  quills  of  black  and  white 
thread,  were  changed  at  every  tap  of  the 
batten.  Plaids  were  woven  both  of  wool 
and  cotton  thread.  They  required  three 


9 6 A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

and  four  shuttles  and  as  many  varieties  of 
color.  We  had  “dice ’’-woven  homespun, 
or  “ basket  plait,”  as  some  would  call  it, 
which  required  three  or  four  treadles  and 
as  many  different  ways  of  tramping  them 
to  form  the  plait.  When  the  warp  was 
dyed  a solid  red  or  deep  garnet  and  filled 
in  with  blue,  or  perhaps  purple,  slate,  or 
black,  as  one  wished,  or  when  the  warp 
was  dyed  blue  and  filled  in  with  whatever 
other  color  pleased  the  eye,  such  cloth  we 
called  our  “chambrey.” 

Sometimes  lint  cotton  was  dyed  a deep 
and  a pale  blue,  and  then  carded  and  spun 
as  dyed.  If  the  warp  was  of  deep  blue  the 
woof  would  be  pale  blue  ; or  the  woof 
would  be  deep  blue  thread  and  the  warp 
pale  blue.  It  was  woven  solid  and  tipped 
with  bright  bits  of  silk,  cassimere,  merino, 
or  other  fine  woolen  scraps,  which,  cut  in 
small  pieces,  were  woven  in  the  meshes  of 
thread. 

Cloth  was  woven  with  two,  three,  four, 
and  five  treadles.  An  ingenious  way  the 
weaver  had  of  tramping  the  treadles  would 
throw  up  on  the  right  or  upper  side  of  the 
cloth  whatever  design  was  placed  in  front 
of  the  weaver’s  eye.  Some  beautiful  car- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  97 

pets  of  wool,  dyed  a variety  of  bright  colors, 
were  woven  on  our  common  house-loom  ; 
and  larg;e  woolen  coverlets  as  well  as 
woolen  and  cotton  flannels  were  made  in 
the  same  manner. 

I often  wonder  how  we  were  able  so 
quickly  to  adapt  ourselves  to  the  great 
changes  rendered  necessary  in  our  modes 
of  life  by  the  blockade.  But  be  it  remem- 
bered that  the  Southerners  who  were  so 
reduced  and  so  compelled  to  rely  entirely 
upon  their  own  resources  belonged  to  the 
Anglo-Saxon  race,  a race  which,  despite 
all  prating  about  “ race  equality,”  has  civ- 
ilized America.  The  reflection  to  which 
memory  gives  rise  when  I recall  war 
times  in  the  South  is  this,  that  “ blood 
will  tell.” 

As  to  our  cotton  flannel,  while  it  was 
rather  heavy  for  every-day  wear,  it  was 
just  the  thing  for  capes  and  cloaks,  and 
was  often  made  into  blankets.  The  filling 
was  spun  rather  coarse  and  very  softly 
twisted.  If  it  was  to  be  used  for  capes  or 
cloaks  the  raw  cotton  was  dyed  whatever 
color  was  made  choice  of  before  carding 
and  spinning ; if  the  flannel  was  to  be  used 
for  blankets  the  lint  cotton  was  carded  and 


98  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

spun  white.  When  placed  in  the  loom 
for  weaving  the  treadles  were  tramped  in 
a manner  which  threw  up  the  coarse,  soft 
spun  woof  very  nearly  all  on  the  upper 
side  of  the  cloth.  Two  or  three  heavy 
beats  of  the  batten  were  given  to  pack  the 
filling  close  and  dense.  When  so  much 
had  been  woven  and  was  still  smoothly  and 
tightly  drawn  over  the  breast-beam,  one 
of  a pair  of  cotton-cards  was  used  by  the 
hand  to  raise  the  lint  of  the  coarse,  soft- 
twisted,  tightly-packed  filling,  till  it  was 
perfectly  smooth  and  downy.  It  would 
then  be  passed  over  the  cloth-beam,  and 
again  so  much  would  be  woven  ; then  it 
left  the  loom-bench,  and  with  the  card  the 
lint  was  raised  again  in  the  same  manner. 
And  so  the  process  of  weaving  and  stop- 
ping to  raise  the  lint  with  the  cards  would 
go  on  to  the  end  of  the  warp.  It  was  a 
slow  and  tedious  way  of  making  cotton 
flannel,  but  a large  quantity  was  made. 
That  which  was  dyed  a very  dark  brown, 
and  with  which  great  pains  had  been  taken 
in  raising  the  lint,  was,  at  some  little  dis- 
tance, sometimes  mistaken  for  sealskin. 
So  much  for  the  ingenuity  of  the  women 
of  southern  Alabama. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  99 

Soon  after  we  had  finished  our  self-im- 
posed task  of  carding  and  spinning  the 
warp  and  woof  for  our  four  dresses,  and  it 
had  been  noised  far  and  wide  in  our  neigh- 
borhood that  we  had  had  patience  to  hold 
out  until  the  task  was  completed,  one  of 
our  acquaintances,  a young  lady,  set  to  to 
excel  us,  in  that  she  was  not  only  going  to 
card  and  spin  the  warp  and  woof  for  a new 
homespun,  but  was  herself  going  to  weave 
the  thread  she  had  spun  into  cloth  for 
her  dress.  She  finally  arrived  at  the  loom 
with  her  warp  and  woof  and  commenced 
with  great  joy  the  weaving.  Her  home- 
spun  warp  proved  to  be  quite  defective. 
There  were  more  or  less  broken  threads  to 
mend  in  the  run  of  any  warp,  even  that 
spun  at  the  cotton  mills,  which  was  always 
stronger  than  hand-spun  warp.  At  first, 
when  the  threads  of  warp  would  break  on 
either  the  cloth-beam  or  thread-beam  side, 
she  would  leave  the  loom-bench  and  mend 
the  broken  threads  ; but  she  became  im- 
patient and  wearied  at  the  oft-breaking 
threads  (sometimes  three  or  four  would 
snap  asunder  at  once),  and  by  the  time  she 
had  woven  three  or  four  yards  she  had 
tired  altogether  of  mending  and  piecing, 


100 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


so  she  began  to  leave  the  threads  hanging 
wherever  they  happened  to  snap  apart, 
and  soon  a thick  fringe  of  thread  was 
hanging  from  the  sides  and  middle  of  the 
cloth  on  both  sides  the  harness  and  sley. 
She  kept  on  weaving,  however,  saying  she 
had  enough  for  the  plain  skirt,  and,  as  it 
narrowed,  that  would  cut  the  waist,  and 
if  it  narrowed  yet  more,  why  that  would 
make  the  sleeves ; but  the  more  threads 
that  broke  the  fewer  were  there  to  sustain 
the  remaining  ones,  so  that  the  cloth,  from 
being  a good  yard  wide  at  the  beginning, 
narrowed  to  less  than  half  a foot,  and  after 
the  first  two  or  three  yards  was  useless  for 
any  purpose,  and  there  ended  that  home- 
spun  that  was  to  be  the  wonder  of  the 
settlement.  We  felt  nowise  inclined  to 
exult  over  our  friend’s  failure,  for  we  no 
doubt  would  have  suffered  defeat  had  we 
attempted  to  weave  our  spun  warp.  It 
required  no  little  patience  to  work  with 
warp  the  threads  of  which  were  every  now 
and  then  breaking,  for  every  thread  had  to 
be  mended  as  soon  as  it  broke,  or  if  not, 
thin,  flimsy  places  would  occur  all  through 
the  web,  and  the  cloth  would  not  wear  long 
enough  to  pay  for  the  trouble  of  carding, 
spinning,  and  weaving. 


VIII. 


One  of  our  most  difficult  tasks  was  to 
find  a good  substitute  for  coffee.  This  pal- 
atable drink,  if  not  a real  necessary  of  life, 
is  almost  indispensable  to  the  enjoyment 
of  a good  meal,  and  some  Southerners  took 
it  three  times  a day.  Coffee  soon  rose  to 
thirty  dollars  per  pound  ; from  that  it  went 
to  sixty  and  seventy  dollars  per  pound. 
Good  workmen  received  thirty  dollars  per 
day ; so  it  took  two  days’  hard  labor  to  buy 
one  pound  of  coffee,  and  scarcely  any  could 
be  had  even  at  that  fabulous  price.  Some 
imagined  themselves  much  better  in  health 
for  the  absence  of  coffee,  and  wondered 
why  they  had  ever  used  it  at  all,  and  de- 
clared it  good  for  nothing  any  way ; but 
“ Sour  grapes  ” would  be  the  reply  for  such 
as  they.  Others  saved  a few  handfuls  of 
coffee,  and  used  it  on  very  important  oc- 
casions, and  then  only  as  an  extract,  so  to 
speak,  for  flavoring  substitutes  for  coffee. 

There  were  those  who  planted  long  rows 


102 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


of  the  okra  plant  on  the  borders  of  their  cot- 
ton or  corn  fields,  and  cultivated  this  with 
the  corn  and  cotton.  The  seeds  of  this, 
when  mature,  and  nicely  browned,  came 
nearer  in  flavor  to  the  real  coffee  than  any 
other  substitute  I now  remember.  Yam 
potatoes  used  to  be  peeled,  sliced  thin,  cut 
into  small  squares,  dried,  and  then  parched 
brown  ; they  were  thought  to  be  next  best 
to  okra  for  coffee.  Browned  wheat,  meal, 
and  burnt  corn  made  passable  beverages  ; 
even  meal-bran  was  browned  and  used  for 
coffee  if  other  substitutes  were  not  obtain- 
able. 

We  had  several  substitutes  for  tea  which 
were  equally  as  palatable,  and,  I fancy, 
more  wholesome,  than  much  that  is  now 
sold  for  tea.  Prominent  among  these  sub- 
stitutes were  raspberry  leaves.  Many  dur- 
ing the  blockade  planted  and  cultivated 
the  raspberry-vine  all  around  their  garden 
palings,  as  much  for  tea  as  the  berries  for 
jams  or  pies  ; these  leaves  were  considered 
the  best  substitute  for  tea.  The  leaves  of 
the  blackberry  bush,  huckleberry  leaves, 
and  the  leaves  of  the  holly-tree  when  dried 
in  the  shade,  also  made  a palatable  tea. 

Persimmons  dried  served  for  dates. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  103 

Each  household  made  its  own  starch, 
some  of  the  bran  of  wheht  flour.  Green 
corn  and  sweet  potatoes  were  grated  in 
order  to  make  starch.  This  process  was 
very  simple.  The  grated  substance  was 
placed  to  soak  in  a large  tub  of  water  ; 
when  it  had  passed  through  the  process  of 
fermentation  and  had  risen  to  the  surface, 
the  grated  matter  was  all  skimmed  off,  the 
water  holding  the  starch  in  solution  was 
passed  through  a sieve,  and  then  through 
a thin  cloth  to  free  altogether  from  any 
foreign  substance.  A change  of  clear  water 
twice  a day  for  three  or  four  days  was 
made  to  more  thoroughly  bleach  the  starch. 
It  would  then  be  put  on  white  cloth,  placed 
on  scaffolds  in  the  yard,  and  left  to  drip 
and  dry.  Starch  of  wheat  bran  was  made 
in  the  same  manner.  It  was  as  white  and 
fine  as  any  ever  bought. 

A good  makeshift  had  soon  been  devised 
for  putty  and  cement,  and  the  artlessness 
of  it  will  perhaps  cause  a smile  to  flit 
across  the  face  of  glaziers.  But  no  cement 
could  be  bought,  and  this  was  useful  in 
many  ways,  as  panes  of  glass  had  to  be  set 
in,  or  a break  to  be  mended  ; the  handle 
broken  from  a pitcher  to  be  placed  on 


104  A BLOCKADED  family. 

anew,  or  repairing  done  to  table  ware. 
When  it  was  necessary  to  repair  any  such 
breaks,  a Spanish  potato  (none  other  of 
the  species  of  that  esculent  root  answered 
so  well)  was  roasted  in  hot  ashes,  peeled 
while  yet  hot,  immediately  mashed  very 
fine,  and  mixed  with  about  a tablespoon- 
ful of  flour ; it  was  then,  while  warm,  ap- 
plied to  whatever  need  there' was.  This 
paste,  when  it  had  become  hardened,  re- 
mained fixed  and  firm,  and  was  as  durable 
as  putty. 

In  place  of  kerosene  for  lights,  the  oil 
of  cotton  seed  and  ground  peas,  together 
with  the  oil  of  compressed  lard,  was  used, 
and  served  well  the  need  of  the  times.  For 
lights  we  had  also  to  fall  back  on  moulding 
candles,  which  had  long  years  lain  obso- 
lete. When  beeswax  was  plentiful  it  was 
mixed  with  tallow  for  moulding  candles. 
Long  rows  of  candles  so  moulded  would  be 
hung  on  the  lower  limbs  of  wide-spreading 
oaks,  where,  sheltered  by  the  dense  foliage 
from  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun,  they  would 
remain  suspended  day  and  night  until 
they  were  bleached  as  white  as  the  sperm 
candles  we  had  been  wont  to  buy,  and  al- 
most as  transparent  as  wax  candles.  When 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  105 

there  was  no  oil  for  the  lamps  or  tallow  for 
moulding  candles,  which  at  times  befell  our 
households,  mother-wit  would  suggest  some 
expedient  by  which  the  intricate  problem 
of  light  could  be  solved. 

One  evening  at  a neighbor’s,  where  we 
had  gone  to  tea,  when  we  took  our  seats  at 
the  supper-table  we  were  diverted  by  the 
lights  we  were  to  eat  by,  the  like  of  which, 
up  to  that  time,  we  had  not  seen,  nor  even 
thought  of. 

In  the  absence  of  any  of  the  ordinary 
materials  for  lighting,  the  good  woman  of 
the  house  had  gone  to  the  woods  and 
gathered  a basketful  of  round  globes  of  the 
sweet-gum  tree.  She  had  taken  two  shal- 
low bowls  and  put  some  lard,  melted,  into 
them,  then  placed  two  or  three  of  the 
sweet -gum  balls  in  each  of  the  vessels, 
which,  soon  becoming  thoroughly  saturated 
with  the  melted  lard,  gave  a fairylike  light, 
floating  round  in  the  shallow  vessels  of  oil 
like  stars. 

At  other  times  rude  lamps  or  candles 
were  improvised,  anything  but  attractive 
in  appearance,  though  the  light  was  fairly 
bright.  Medium -sized  bottles  (of  course 
any  proper  sized  bottle  would  answer)  were 


106  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

taken,  and  several  strands  of  spun  thread 
twisted  together  to  form  a wick  two  or 
three  yards  long  were  well  steeped  in 
beeswax  and  tallow,  and  coiled  around  the 
bottle  from  base  to  neck  closely  and  evenly. 
When  ready  for  lighting,  one  or  more  of 
the  coils  of  thread  would  be  loosed  from 
the  bottle,  raised  above  the  mouth  an  inch 
or  so,  and  pressed  with  the  thumb  to  the 
neck  of  the  bottle.  When  the  wick  had 
burned  to  the  bottle’s  mouth,  the  same 
process  of  uncoiling  and  pressing  the  wick 
to  the  bottle  would  be  repeated.  This 
gave  a steady  flame.  When  beeswax 
could  not  be  had,  tallow  was  used  for 
steeping  the  strands. 

Sewing  societies  were  formed  in  every 
hamlet,  as  well  as  in  our  cities,  to  keep 
the  soldiers  of  the  Confederacy  clothed  as 
best  we  could.  They  met  once  every  week, 
at  some  lady’s  house,  if  it  was  in  the  coun- 
try. To  such  societies  all  the  cloth  that 
could  be  spared  from  each  household  was 
given  and  made  into  soldiers’  garments. 
Socks,  gloves,  blankets,  woolen  coverlets, 
and  even  home-made  bedquilts  were  do- 
nated ; wool  scarfs,  knitted  on  long  oak  or 
hickory  - wood  needles,  were  sent  for  our 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  107 

soldiers  in  the  bitter  cold  of  Virginia,  to 
wrap  around  their  necks  and  cover  their 
ears. 

In  many  settlements  there  were  spinning 
“bees.”  Many  women  whose  husbands 
were  in  the  army  found  it  uphill  work  to 
card  and  spin  all  that  was  necessary  to 
clothe  a numerous  family,  In  such  cases, 
as  often  as  was  needful,  there  would  be  a 
gathering  of  ladies  of  the  settlement,  both 
married  and  single,  for  the  “ spinning  bee.” 
Wheels,  cards,  and  cotton  were  all  hauled 
in  a wagon  to  the  place  appointed.  On 
the  way,  as  often  as  not,  a long  flexible 
twig  would  be  cut  from  the  woods,  and  at- 
tached to  one  of  the  spinning-wheels  ; from 
the  top  of  such  flagstaff  would  play  loosely 
to  the  wind,  and  jolts  of  the  wagon,  a large 
bunch  of  lint  cotton,  as  our  ensign.  Some- 
times as  many  as  six  or  eight  wheels  would 
be  whirring  at  the  same  time  in  one  house, 
and  assistance  was  also  given  in  weaving, 
cutting  out,  and  making  up  clothing  for 
such  families. 

Ah,  those  stormy  days  of  our  convulsed 
country  had  their  guileless  pleasures,  as 
well  as  sorrows  ! We  were  drawn  to- 
gether in  a closer  union,  a tenderer  feeling 


108  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

of  humanity  linking  us  all  together,  both 
rich  and  poor  ; from  the  princely  planter, 
who  could  scarce  get  off  his  wide  domains 
in  a day’s  ride,  and  who  could  count  his 
slaves  by  the  thousand,  down  to  the  hum- 
ble tenants  of  the  log-cabin  on  rented  or 
leased  land.  I have  now  a letter  written 
by  a Southern  woman,  whose  husband  and 
oldest  son  belonged  to  an  Alabama  regi- 
ment, which  was  ordered  to  Island  No.  io, 
in  the  Mississippi  River ; and  soon  sur- 
rounded there  as  it  was  by  the  Federal 
army,  communication  was  cut  off  between 
our  soldiers  and  the  home  ones.  Soon  the 
island  was  captured  by  our  enemies,  and 
her  husband  and  son  were  taken  prisoners. 
She  was  then  thrown  upon  her  own  re- 
sources entirely  to  provide  for  a family  of 
ten,  no  longer  receiving  the  government 
pay  of  eleven  dollars  per  month  each  for 
husband  and  son.  Her  two  oldest  daugh- 
ters were  large  enough  to  give  her  some 
help  in  her  battle  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the 
door.  These  people  were  of  those  who 
had  never  owned  a slave  in  their  lives,  and 
who  had  but  a few  acres  of  land,  but  they 
were  just  as  true  and  devoted  to  our  cause 
as  those  who  numbered  their  slaves  and 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 09 

acres  by  the  thousand.  I cannot  forbear 
quoting  here  a few  lines  of  this  brave,  good 
woman’s  letter. 

“ We  had  a hard  time  [she  writes]  ; my- 
self and  two  oldest  daughters  making  a 
living  for  ten  in  the  family.  There  was 
no  work  the  little  boys  could  do.  We 
spun  and  wove  cloth  to  sell,  day  by  day, 
and  we  took  in  sewing,  which  was  done  by 
night.  We  knit  a great  deal,  and  worked, 
oh,  so  hard  ! and  I thank  God  that  it  was 
so,  for  had  it  been  otherwise,  had  I had  time 
to  sit  and  ponder  over  all  the  sad  details 
that  the  daily  news  brought  me,  I should 
have  failed.  But  when  night  came  on,  my 
weary,  aching  limbs  and  troubled  heart 
were  soon  at  rest  ; and  I awoke  refreshed, 
and  ready  for  another  day’s  trials ; and  I 
am  proud  to  say  we  never  went  to  bed 
hungry.  . . . We  even  had  some  merry 
days,  neighbors  and  friends  meeting  to- 
gether, telling  our  trials,  and  even  laugh- 
ing at  them  ; feeling  that  the  sacrifice  was 
little,  could  we  but  gain  our  cause.  There 
is  one  thing  I am  proud  of,  and  that  is,  the 
advantages  we  took  of  our  resources,  and 
our  own  independence.  I can  hardly  see 
how  such  a people  could  be  conquered.” 


no 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


She  lives  to-day  in  the  “Lone  Star” 
State,  surrounded  by  nine  of  her  children, 
who  are  all  good  and  useful  citizens.  Her 
husband  died  in  a Northern  prison.  The 
oldest  son,  who  was  taken  prisoner  when 
his  father  was,  was  paroled  soon  after  the 
South’s  surrender,  and  returned  home,  as 
thousands  of  others  did,  to  join  a broken 
home  circle. 

We  often  thought,  and  said  too,  that  it 
was  well  for  us  all  in  the  South  that  our 
minds  were  so  taxed  in  devising  temporary 
expedients,  and  our  hands  so  busied  in 
carrying  them  into  effect ; we  really  had  no 
time  to  brood  over  the  sorrowful  news  that 
the  papers  were  daily  depicting.  We  were 
being  led  in  a way  we  knew  not : and  like 
the  humble  woman  of  the  cottage,  we  even 
made  merry  over  our  inevitable  privations 
and  inconveniences.  Indeed,  we  grew  so 
accustomed  to  them  that  they  scarcely 
seemed  privations. 

While  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by  the 
blockade,  we  used  to  think  that  if  no  war 
were  raging,  and  a wall  as  thick  and  high 
as  the  great  Chinese  Wall  were  to  entirely 
surround  our  Confederacy,  we  should  not 
suffer  intolerable  inconvenience,  but  live 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


I 1 1 


as  happily  as  Adam  and  Eve  in  the  Gar- 
den of  Eden  before  they  tasted  the  forbid- 
den fruit.  We  used  to  say,  “ How  can  we 
be  subdued,  when  we  have  so  cheerfully 
and  uncomplainingly  given  up  every  lux- 
ury, and  in  a measure  even  the  comforts  of 
life ; and  yet  with  what  crude  resources  are 
at  hand,  we  are  feeding  and  clothing  the 
whole  people  of  the  South,  civil  as  well  as 
military?”  We  felt  all  the  more  pride, 
when  we  remembered  that  at  the  begin- 
ning of  hostilities  we  were  unprepared  in 
almost  every  essential  necessary  to  the 
existence  of  our  Confederacy  ; yet  now,  the 
best  part  of  two  years  had  gone,  and  the 
South  was  holding  her  own. 

Our  day  of  adversity  had  not  come ; it 
was  not  unnatural  that  we  sang  with  fervor 
and  animation,  “We  conquer  or  die,”  and 
“Farewell,  Brother  Jonathan.”  But  we  did 
not  forget  to  call  upon  the  Lord  in  the  day 
of  our  success,  as  well  as  in  the  day  of  our 
adversity.  Often  the  inhabitants  of  our 
settlement  — and  it  was  just  the  same  all 
over  the  Southern  States  — were  called  to 
the  house  of  worship  to  sanctify  a fast. 
What  comfort  and  consolation  we  gathered 
from  the  reading  of  the  first  and  second 


1 12 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


chapters  of  the  book  of  the  Prophet  Joel ; 
how  fervently  and  devoutly  we  prayed  that 
God  would  stay  up  the  hands  of  our  armies, 
till  victory  was  won  ; and  trusting  God  we 
would  return  lifted  up  in  spirit  to  our  homes 
and  to  our  labor.  It  was  well  for  us  that 
we  had  not  prophetic  vision  to  foresee  the 
result  of  the  contest.  We  fasted,  we  prayed, 
we  trusted  ; but  victory  did  hot  crown  our 
armies. 


IX. 


It  may  excite  some  amusement  to  re- 
cord the  fact  that  among  the  thousand  and 
one  industries  and  makeshifts  which  blos- 
somed into  life  in  southern  Alabama  dur- 
ing the  period  of  the  war,  the  making  of 
hoopskirts,  which  were  worn  extensively 
before,  as  well  as  during,  and  even  for  some 
time  after,  hostilities  between  the  North 
and  South,  was  not  neglected.  One  of  the 
ladies  of  our  county  devised  a means  of 
weaving  the  hoopskirt  on  the  common 
house-loom.  It  mattered  not  if  the  tapes 
were  all  broken,  and  the  casing  all  worn 
off  the  steels,  a new  farthingale  was  war- 
ranted, if  only  the  steels  of  the  worn  skirt 
came. 

There  were  raids  made  upon  garrets  for 
all  old  broken-up  hoopskirts  and  pieces  of 
steel  belonging  to  such  skirts,  which  we 
either  carried  or  sent  to  the  renovator  of 
dilapidated  hoopskirts.  Her  first  move 
was  to  tightly  wrap  the  steels  one  by  one 


I 14  a BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

with  homespun  thread,  three  or  four 
strands  double,  but  not  twisted,  piecing 
the  steels,  when  necessary.  An  old  hoop- 
skirt  not  so  worn  was  her  guide  as  to  the 
proper  number  and  length  of  steels.  The 
thread  for  the  warp  of  the  skirt  was  passed 
through  the  harness  eyes  and  reeds  of 
the  sley  about  an  inch  wide,  which  was  to 
answer  for  the  tape  of  the  skirt  ; a space 
of  threads,  six  or  more  inches,  was  skipped 
in  the  harness  and  sley  ; the  thread  for  the 
tape  again  passed  through  the  harness  and 
sley  ; another  skip,  and  so  on  the  length  of 
the  sley.  When  ready  for  weaving,  one  of 
the  encased  steels  was  placed  in  the  open- 
ings of  the  narrow  strips  of  warp,  the  steel 
projecting  about  three  inches  on  each  side 
of  the  outside  tape  ; the  steel  was  woven  in  ; 
then  about  two  inches  or  more  of  tape  was 
woven  ; another  steel  was  placed  in  ; the 
same  length  of  tape  woven  ; another  steel, 
and  so  on  till  all  the  steels  required  for  the 
skirt  were  woven  in.  The  space  of  tape  for 
the  top  of  the  skirt  was  then  woven,  and 
half  of  the  skirt  was  finished.  The  other 
half  was  woven  in  the  same  manner  ; the 
projecting  ends  of  the  steels  were  joined 
and  closely  wrapped,  and  the  hoopskirt  was 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I 1 5 

complete  so  far  as  the- weaving  was  con- 
cerned. 

These  skirts  were  neat  and  satisfactory 
when  finished  off  by  hand.  The  weaving 
was  slow  and  difficult,  however,  because 
the  shuttle  could  not  make  a clean  shoot 
through  the  narrow  openings  of  warp,  but 
had  to  be  passed  through  each  one  by 
hand.  The  maker  above  referred  to  was 
another  humble  cottager  whose  husband 
and  son  were  in  our  army,  and  to  use  her 
quaint  expression,  she  was  trying  “to  make 
both  buckle  and  tongue  meet,”  while  hus- 
band and  son  were  fighting  for  our  cause. 

It  was  really  ridiculous,  our  way  of  mak- 
ing raids  upon  what  remained  of  our  fine 
bed-linen,  pillow-shams,  and  slips,  for  gar- 
ments of  finer  texture  than  our  own  home- 
woven  cloth.  I well  remember  that  once, 
when  I stepped  into  a friend’s  room,  her 
very  first  words  were,  “ This  is  the  last 
bleached,  seamless  bed-sheet  I ’ve  got,  and 
now  I must  cut  it  up  for  garments  ! ” I 
doubt  very  much  if  a fine  sheet  could  have 
been  found  in  any  house  in  our  settlement 
when  the  war  closed.  Perhaps  there  was 
not  one  in  the  blockaded  South. 

Fine  white  pillow-shams  were  cut  up  and 


Il6  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

made  into  white  waists,  to  wear  with  our 
heavy  home-made  skirts  in  the  hot  summer. 
Sometimes  a family  would  happen  to  have 
a bundle  of  scraps  of  blue  striped  bed-tick- 
ing, which  would  be  divided  around  among 
the  neighboring  girls.  We  would  ravel  it 
all  up,  taking  care  to  save  every  blue 
thread  (which  was  a fast  color)  to  em- 
broider flowers  on  the  front,  collar,  and 
cuffs  of  our  white  waists,  made  of  pillow- 
shams  and  slips  ; and  we  did  think  them 
beautiful  and  prized  them  all  the  more 
highly  because  of  the  narrow  pass  to  which 
we  had  arrived  for  fine  material  to  tide  us 
over  till  our  cause  should  be  won ; and  if 
we  used  up  all  the  fine  sheets,  pillow-slips, 
and  shams  of  ante-bellum  days  for  our 
wear,  soft  home-spun,  home-woven  sheets 
took  their  place. 

Cloth  that  was  called  thirded  was  woven 
for  sheets  and  pillow-slips.  Two  threads 
of  warp  would  be  passed  through  the  reeds 
of  the  sley  for  all  plain  or  twilled  cloth. 
For  single  sleyed  cloth  one  thread  only 
was  passed  through  the  sley-reeds.  For 
cloth  woven  “ thirded  ” the  weaver  would 
begin  by  drawing  two  threads  through  the 
first  reeds  of  the  sley  and  one  thread 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 1 7 

through  the  next  reeds,  two  threads  again, 
and  then  one,  thus  alternating  the  width  of 
the  warp  two  and  one.  When  filled  in  with 
soft  fine-spun  filling,  this  stuff  was  soft  and 
yielding,  and  easy  to  handle  in  the  wash. 

Some  real  nice  towels  were  woven  of 
the  thirded  cloth,  and  edged  with  wide  or 
narrow  blue  borders  of  our  home-made 
indigo,  as  that  was  ever  a fast  color.  A 
fringe  would  be  formed  at  both  ends  of  the 
towel  by  raveling  out  an  inch  or  so  of  the 
woof ; they  had  to  be  inspected  closely  to 
note  the  difference  between  them  and  those 
bought  in  the  usual  manner. 

Many  of  our  women,  when  cotton  was  at 
its  prime  in  opening,  and  before  any  rain 
had  fallen  on  it,  would  select  and  pick  them- 
selves from  the  bolls  that  were  the  long- 
est and  fullest  of  the  white  fleecy  staple, 
enough  for  their  finest  knitting  purposes. 
They  would  also  pick  the  seed  from  the 
white  silky  locks  with  their  fingers,  which 
would  spin  a longer,  finer  thread  than  if  it 
had  been  ginned.  I have  seen  socks  and 
stockings  knit  of  such  prepared  cotton 
that,  in  point  of  fineness  of  texture,  were 
almost  the  equal,  and  in  lasting  power  were 
more  than  the  equal,  of  those  bought  at 


1 1 8 A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

stores.  One  of  my  pupils,  who  is  yet  liv- 
ing in  southern  Alabama,  prepared  enough 
of  such  thread  with  her  own  hands  to  give 
me  as  a present,  with  the  expressed  desire 
that  I should  knit  for  myself  a pair  of  stock- 
ings. I used  very  fine  knitting  needles,  and 
took  great  care  to  draw  every  stitch  on 
the  needles  so  as  to  have  no  unevenness. 
Three  or  four  inches  above  the  instep  I 
commenced  knitting  “ shell-work,”  which 
was  in  fashion  then.  We  could  not  have 
our  hose  as  fine  as  that  which  we  had  once 
bought,  but  we  tried  to  cover  that  defect 
by  all  manner  of  fancy  designs  in  knitting, 
such  as  “ leaf  and  vine,”  “ clock-work,” 
“ shell-work,”  and  plain  or  twisted  “ ribs.” 
These  covered  all  the  upper  part  of  the 
foot,  and  had  they  been  knit  of  fine  white 
floss  they  could  not  have  made  a better  ap- 
pearance. 

Another  article  which  we  learned  how 
to  produce  was  “ hair  oil.”  We  had  plenty 
of  roses,  fragrant  ones  too,  which  we  gath- 
ered, and  then  filled  quite  a large  bowl 
with  their  petals,  among  which  we  put 
enough  fresh,  white  hog’s  lard  to  fill  the 
bowl  to  the  brim.  When  melted,  a piece 
of  glass  was  placed  over  the  bowl  securely  ; 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I I g 

it  was  then  put  on  a scaffold  out  in  the  yard, 
where  the  rays  of  the  sun  could  shine  down 
upon  it  all  day.  There  it  remained  for  two 
or  three  weeks  day  and  night,  until  the 
petals  became  crisp  and  transparent.  The 
mixture  was  then  strained  through  a thin 
muslin  cloth  into  a mug  or  other  small 
vessel,  and  we  were  content  with  it,  know- 
ing that  it  contained  nothing  deleterious 
to  the  scalp  or  hair. 

Although  war  was  raging  all  around, 
both  on  sea  and  land,  yet  in  our  quiet  val- 
ley which,  we  were  vain  enough  to  believe, 
rivaled  the  far-famed  Vale  of  Cashmere, 
everything  moved  on  the  even  tenor  of  its 
way.  We  were  happy  and  contented,  both 
master  and  slave.  Late  on  Saturday  af- 
ternoons, the  weekly  rations  for  the  slaves 
were  given  out  ; and  in  addition  to  them 
would  be  given  for  Sunday  cheer,  flour, 
lard,  butter,  sugar,  and  some  substitute  for 
coffee,  as  real  coffee  had  been  given  before 
the  war.  They  had  the  privilege  also  of 
vegetables  and  fruits.  On  Sundays  the 
slaves  would  do  their  own  cooking.  On 
week  days  a negro  slave  was  regularly 
detailed  to  cook  for  the  laboring  hands, 
and  even  provender  for  the  plow  stock  was 


120 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


placed  in  the  feed  troughs  by  the  “ trash- 
gang,”  as  they  were  called,  composed  of 
negro  boys  and  girls  not  old  enough  for 
regular  field  work.  On  week  days  the  la- 
borer had  only  to  take  the  gear  off  the 
mule  and  turn  it  in  the  lot  gate,  and  then 
go  to  dinner  ready  waiting  for  him. 

Farmers  not  owning  more  than  fifteen 
or  twenty  negro  slaves  generally  had  all 
the  cooking  for  white  and  black  done  at 
the  same  time.  I have  often  heard  farmers 
say  since  the  war,  and  laugh  over  it,  that 
they  had  really  eaten  no  good  cabbage, 
turnips,  or  collard  - greens  since  slavery 
times.  It  used  to  be  necessary  to  cook  so 
much  bacon  for  the  slaves  that  vegetables 
and  “ greens  ” of  any  variety  were  well 
seasoned.  During  the  war  when  bacon 
was  very  scarce,  it  often  happened  that 
the  white  household  would  deny  them- 
selves meat  to  eat,  so  as  to  give  it  to  the 
slaves,  as  they  had  to  toil  in  the  field. 

If  a negro  was  sick,  a doctor,  who  was 
already  paid,  was  called  in  all  haste,  as 
planters  used  to  engage  a doctor  by  the 
year,  at  so  much  for  each  slave  whether 
large  or  small. 

One  negro  boy  called  “ Jim,”  about  eight- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


1 2 I 


een  years  of  age,  was  quite  sick  of  a fever 
one  fall.  His  master  and  mistress  had  him 
brought  from  the  “quarter”  over  to  the 
dwelling -yard  and  placed  in  the  cook’s 
cabin,  so  that  he  might  be  given  close  at- 
tention. One  or  the  other  watched  him 
day  and  night  (for  he  was  a very  valuable 
boy)  and  gave  the  medicine.  One  Satur- 
day during  his  illness  his  master  had  to 
go  to  the  city  for  some  purpose,  and  he 
asked  me  to  help  his  wife  and  daughter 
care  for  Jim  that  day,  saying,  as  he  stepped 
into  his  buggy,  “ Now  be  careful  of  Jim, 
and  see  to  it  that  he  lacks  for  nothing ; 
if  he  dies,  I ’ve  lost  one  thousand  dollars, 
good  as  gold.”  It  was  nothing  uncom- 
mon then  for  able-bodied  young  negro 
men  to  be  valued  at  from  one  thousand  to 
eighteen  hundred  dollars.  If  Jim  be  living 
to-day,  I know  he  has  not  forgotten  our 
giving  him  his  medicine  and  gruel  at  the 
regular  hours,  heating  hot  bricks  and  pla- 
cing them  at  his  feet  as  the  doctor  ordered, 
nor  how  I burned  my  fingers  muffling  the 
hot  bricks. 

Very  often  the  sick  negroes  would  be 
brought  right  into  their  masters’  houses, 
so  as  to  be  more  closely  watched. 


122 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 


Then  there  were  the  annual  barbecues 
that  each  and  all  planters  gave  without 
fail  to  their  slaves  when  the  crops  had  all 
been  laid  by,  which  semi -holiday  weeks 
embraced  the  last  of  July  and  the  first  of 
August.  I remember  in  {particular  one  bar- 
becue roast  that  I witnessed  one  night  in 
company  with  the  household.  The  “pits  ” 
were  some  little  distance  from  the  mansion, 
and  were  half  filled  with  red-hot  coals  of 
oak  and  hickory  wood,  over  which  the  flesh 
of  whole  dressed  beef,  mutton,  and  shoats 
were  slowly  roasting,  lying  on  a grate 
made  of  split  staves  of  oak  or  hickory 
wood.  A goodly  - sized  vessel,  containing 
vinegar,  butter,  salt,  pulverized  sage,  pep- 
per, and  thyme,  all  mingled  together  with 
a “ swab,”  stood  in  close  proximity  to  the 
barbecuing  meat.  Every  now  and  then 
the  roasting  .flesh  would  be  turned  over 
with  long  oak  sticks  sharpened  smoothly 
to  a point  at  one  end,  which  answered  the 
place  of  forks  ; deep  and  long  incisions 
would  be  made  in  the  barbecuing  meat, 
and  with  the  swab  a good  basting  of  the 
mixed  condiments  from  the  bowl  would  be 
spread  over ; the  process  of  turning  the 
roasting  flesh  over  the  glowing  red  coals 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 23 

and  basting  with  the  seasoning  continued 
till  the  meat  was  thought  to  be  thoroughly- 
done.  It  would  sometimes  be  far  beyond 
the  hour  of  midnight  before  the  barbecu- 
ing meat  was  removed  from  the  “ pits,” 
and  I yet  think  that  such  barbecued  meats 
cannot  be  surpassed  by  any  other  sort  of 
cooked  or  roasted  meats.  When  cold  and 
sliced,  it  was  certainly  delicious.  A night 
barbecuing  was  a weird  scene.  Blazing 
pine-torches  heaped  on  the  rude  stands 
improvised  for  the  occasion  threw  a ruddy 
glow  out  over  the  dark  forest,  giving  an 
uncanny  aspect  to  the  long  thick  moss 
swaying  sylphlike  in  the  night  breeze. 
Some  of  the  negroes  would  be  tending  the 
roasting  flesh  ; some  with  the  swab,  bast- 
ing with  the  seasoning ; some  laughing 
loud  enough  to  wake  the  sleeping  echoes  ; 
some  lazily  stretched  out  on  the  ground 
thinking  of  to-morrow’s  feast.  Now  and 
then  some  one  would  “ pat  Juba,”  as  they 
called  it,  while  the  dim  light  of  the  moon 
and  stars  peeping  through  the  heavy  foli- 
age, together  with  the  savory  smoke  rising 
from  the  pits,  enhanced  the  strangeness  of 
the  fete. 

When  the  morrow  came,  two  or  three 


124  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

long  tables  were  set  in  the  far-reaching 
shade  of  grand  old  oaks,  whose  every 
limb  was  hung  plentifully  with  the  long 
gray  moss  that  is  so  common  in  the  south- 
ern part  of  the  Southern  States,  and  which 
imparts  to  the  trees  in  that  section  an  as- 
pect strikingly  patriarchal. 

The  tables  would  be  weighted  with  the 
flesh  of  the  ox,  mutton,  pork,  an'd  great  pans 
of  chicken  pies,  as  well  as  fruits,  vegetables, 
and  light  bread  and  cakes  of  our  bolted 
meal.  Seats  were  arranged  all  around,  and 
old  and  honored  negroes,  called  to  preside 
at  the  heads  of  the  tables,  would  bid  them 
all  to  seat  themselves,  — by  fifties,  it  often 
was,  — when,  with  hands  uplifted,  they  in- 
voked the  divine  blessing. 

Many  in  southern  Alabama  yet  retain  a 
vivid  recollection  of  these  regular  annual 
barbecues,  given  to  the  slaves  when  the 
crops  had  all  been  “ laid  by.” 


X. 


Often  have  we  sat  on  the  colonnade  of 
that  lovely  Alabama  home,  and  wondered 
if  any  part  of  the  world  could  be  more 
beautiful.  We  would  number  the  stars  at 
night  as  they  peeped  forth  one  by  one,  in 
the  clear  blue  vault  above,  until  they  be- 
came innumerable,  and  then  the  full  moon 
would  deluge  the  whole  scene  with  its  shin- 
ing flood  of  light.  Or  perhaps  it  would  be 
in  the  deepening  twilight,  when  the  heav- 
ens were  unrelieved  by  moon  or  star,  that 
the  soul  would  be  touched,  as  the  drowsy 
hum  of  nature’s  little  wildwood  insects 
came  stealing  gently  on  the  ear.  Not  in- 
frequently the  mocking-birds  would  trill 
their  varied  notes,  or  we  would  hear  the 
faint  tinkle  of  bells  as  “ the  lowing  ” herds 
wound  “slowly  o’er  the  lea.”  In  the  dis- 
tance the  negro  plowmen  were  returning 
homeward  chanting  their  “corn  song.” 
Ah  ! but  those  old  “ corn  songs  ” had  mel- 
ody then  ! They  lent  enchantment  to  all 


126  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

the  surroundings.  Even  yet  they  call  from 
out  the  misty  shadows  of  the  past  a host 
of  memories,  when  they  fall  upon  ears 
that  were  wont  to  listen  to  their  quaint  re- 
frain in  days  gone  by. 

Often  Uncle  Ben,  on  the  colonnade  or 
in  the  hall,  would  while  off  on  the  violin 
that  his  master  had  given  him  pleasing 
plantation  melodies,  accompanying  his  per- 
formance with  his  rude  singing.  He  would 
seem  almost  transported  with  ecstacy,  as 
he  used  to  stand  with  head  thrown  back, 
eyes  shut,  and  foot  vigorously  keeping 
time ; and  often  as  he  drew  forth  his  art- 
less strains  a dozen  or  more  negroes,  old 
and  young,  would  be  dancing  in  the  white, 
sandy  yard,  as  merrily  as  “ birds  without 
barn  or  storehouse.” 

Sometimes,  in  the  solemn  hush  of  the 
closing  Sabbath  eve  in  the  country,  sweet 
strains  of  song  would  float  out  upon  the 
air  from  the  negroes’  quarter.  Many  large 
planters  had  preachers  employed  to  teach 
and  preach  regularly  to  the  slaves.  One 
Sabbath  night  I yet  remember  above  all  the 
others.  Our  day  of  gloom  was  drawing  on, 
we  could  no  longer  close  our  eyes  to  the 
fact  that  our  cause  was  drooping  ; our  sol- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 27 

diers  were  meeting  with  reverses  on  all 
sides,  hope  was  only  faintly  glimmering. 
Cast  down  and  disquieted  as  we  were  that 
night,  the  services  at  the  negro  church 
made  a deep  impression  upon  our  minds. 
They  sang  an  old  time  song,  the  refrain  of 
which  we  could  just  catch.  When  they  be- 
gan the  first  verse,  — 

“ Where,  oh  where  is  the  good  old  Daniel  ? 

Where,  oh  where  is  the  good  old  Daniel  ? 

Who  was  cast  in  the  lion’s  den  ; 

Safe  now  in  the  promised  land.” 

When  they  would  strike  the  refrain,  — 

“ By  and  by  we  ’ll  go  home  to  meet  him, 

By  and  by  we  ’ll  go  home  to  meet  him, 

Way  over  in  the  promised  land,” 

we  could  almost  imagine  they  were  on 
wing  for  “ the  promised  land,”  as  they 
seemed  to  throw  all  the  passion  of  their 
souls  into  the  refrain,  and  fancy  would  al- 
most hear  the  rustle  of  wings,  as  the  deep 
swelling  anthem  rolled  forth.  Again  it 
would  be,  — 

“ Where,  oh  where  is  the  good  Elijah  ? 

Where,  oh  where  is  the  good  Elijah  ? 

Who  went  up  in  a chariot  of  fire ; 

Safe  now  in  the  promised  land.” 

And  the  chorus,  — 

“ By  and  by  we  ’ll  go  home  to  meet  him,” 


128  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

would  peal  forth  again  in  loud  - shouting 
strains.  I hushed  my  breath  to  hear  the 
mellow  strains  of  that  song,  and  seemed  to 
see  the  mantle  of  our  lost  cause  descend- 
ing. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  a letter  came 
from  my  father,  saying  one  of  the  soldier 
brothers  was  at  home  on  a twenty-one  days’ 
furlough.  This  was  the  first'  home-coming 
since  the  commencement  of  hostilities  in 
1861.  My  presence  was  again  desired  at 
home,  to  meet  with  the  long  - absent 
brother.  But  by  some  irregularity  of  the 
mail,  it  so  happened  that  my  letter  had 
been  delayed,  and  I saw  by  the  postscript 
and  date  that  my  brother  would  be  leaving 
for  the  front  again  before  I could  possi- 
bly reach  my  father’s  house.  Yet  a great 
yearning  came  over  me,  on  reading  his 
kindly  letter,  to  see  my  father  again.  Soon 
I was  homeward  bound  once  more,  disap- 
pointed and  pained  at  not  being  in  time  to 
see  my  brother.  I gave  little  heed  to  the 
landscape  spread  out  as  the  train  swept 
onward  ; but  my  heart  gave  a glad  bound 
when  the  waters  of  the  Chattahoochee 
river,  sparkling  in  the  bright  sunlight, 
greeted  my  eyes,  for  now  I should  soon  be 
at  my  father’s  house. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I 29 

Here  and  in  all  the  surrounding  neigh- 
borhood, as  far  as  I could  see,  the  same 
vigorous  efforts  were  put  forth  to  feed  and 
clothe  the  soldiers  of  our  Confederacy,  as 
well  as  the  home  ones,  that  I had  wit- 
nessed in  southern  Alabama.  There  was 
the  same  self-sacrifice,  without  a thought 
of  murmuring  for  the  luxuries  enjoyed 
before  the  war.  Yet  with  the  nicest  econ- 
omy, and  the  most  studied  husbandry, 
— however  generously  the  earth  might 
yield  of  grain,  fruits,  and  vegetables,  — the 
South  was  awakening  to  the  painful  reality 
that  the  produce  grown  on  our  narrowing 
space  of  Confederate  soil  was  inadequate 
for  the  sustenance  of  those  at  home,  our 
soldiers,  and  the  Northern  soldiers  whom 
we  held  as  prisoners.  We  were  not  only 
encompassed  by  land  and  water,  but  the 
Confederacy  was  divided  in  twain  by  the 
gunboats  of  the  Federals  on  the  Mississippi 
River.  With  nearly  all  the  soldiers  from 
west  of  the  Mississippi  River  in  the  east- 
ern half  of  our  Confederacy,  we  had  no 
communication  whatevever  from  beyond 
the  great  “ Father  of  Waters.”  All  aid  and 
succor  as  regarded  provisions  and  clothes 
for  our  army  was  at  an  end  from  beyond 


130  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

the  Mississippi.  We  were  caged  up  like 
a besieged  city.  There  was  neither  egress 
nor  ingress  for  men  or  means.  Our  sol- 
diers from  the  west  had  to  share  what 
little  provisions  were  grown  in  our  circum- 
scribed limit.  They  also  shared  what  cloth- 
ing could  be  manufactured  in  the  more  and 
more  straitened  condition  of  the  South. 

If  a soldier  from  the  west  drew  a fur- 
lough he  could  not  get  to  his  home.  Those 
who  had  relatives  or  friends  east  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi River  would  spend  their  leave  of 
absence  with  them.  Sometimes  the  soldier 
from  the  west  would  give  the  furlough  he 
drew  to  some  friend  he  had  made  on  this 
side  ; or  perhaps  it  would  be  that  the  sol- 
dier of  our  side  of  the  river  would  send 
his  comrade  of  the  west  to  his  people  and 
home  with  a letter  of  introduction. 

I remember  a good  man  and  neighbor, 
who  lived  near  my  school,  who  had  four 
grown  sons  in  the  army,  one  by  one  killed 
outright  in  battle,  one  at  Fort  Donelson, 
one  at  the  battle  of  Franklin,  in  Tennes- 
see, another  near  Chattanooga,  the  last 
and  youngest  at  Chickamauga.  A while 
before  the  last  two  were  slain,  one  had 
drawn  a furlough  to  come  home,  but  there 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 3 I 

being  in  his  regiment  a comrade  from  the 
State  of  Texas,  to  whom  he  was  very  much 
attached,  and  who  was  by  no  means  well, 
though  on  duty,  this  son  had  the  furlough 
he  had  drawn  transferred  to  his  Texas 
comrade,  whom  he  sent  to  his  father’s  with 
a letter  of  introduction,  asking  for  his 
Texas  friend  the  same  welcome  that  would 
have  greeted  himself. 

Mr.  Saunders,  the  Texan,  came,  and 
was  welcomed  in  Mr.  Weaver’s  family  as 
warmly  as  one  of  his  own  sons  would  have 
been,  the  more  kindly  by  the  family  and 
all  the  neighborhood  because  he  was  de- 
barred from  visiting  his  own  home.  He 
spent  three  weeks  in  our  settlement,  and 
returned  to  camp  much  invigorated  in 
health  and  spirits.  In  less  than  six  months, 
both  the  sons  were  slain  in  battle,  and  a 
few  weeks  afterwards  Mr.  Saunders  also 
fell  and  was  buried  in  north  Georgia. 

My  employer  also  had  Texas  relatives 
in  our  army,  who  came  on  their  leave  of 
absence  to  his  home.  They  could  not  so 
much  as  hear  from  their  own  homes. 

To  make  our  situation  worse,  all  the 
rice-growing  lands  of  Georgia  and  South 
Carolina  were  overrun  by  Northern  troops  ; 


132  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

and  all  the  negro  laborers  of  the  large  rice 
plantations,  as  well  as  those  lying  con- 
tiguous to  the  rice-growing  districts,  had 
been  decoyed  off  by  Federal  troops,  which 
more  and  more  crippled  the  eastern  half 
of  our  Confederacy,  which  was  then  bur- 
dened with  the  whole  Confederate  army, 
as  well  as  thousands  of  Northern  prisoners, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  Federal  army  camped 
on  this  same  half  of  the  South.  Corn  and 
what  little  wheat  could  then  be  grown, 
with  rice  and  sorghum  syrup,  formed  the 
base  of  our  supplies.  Of  course  fruits  and 
vegetables  were  grown,  but  being  perish- 
able were  worthless  for  our  soldiers  or  pris- 
oners, so  limited  were  our  means  of  trans- 
portation. 

Northern  journals  often  ask  why  it  was 
that  the  South  gave  Northern  prisoners 
nothing  to  eat ; and  I must  say  here,  that 
there  is  a sorrow  deep-felt  at  the  knowl- 
edge that  our  soldiers  and  the  Northern 
prisoners  both  suffered  for  the  want  of 
sufficient  food  to  nourish  ; they  suffered 
both  as  to  quantity  and  quality.  But  I ask 
in  all  candor,  how  could  it  be  otherwise, 
hemmed  in  as  the  South  was  ? Not  one 
tenth  of  the  government  tithes  of  grain 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I 33 

and  meat,  west  of  the  Mississippi  River, 
could  reach  us  ; the  blockade  was  all 
around;  the  Federal  army’s  tents  were 
pitched  on  Southern  soil  ; detachments  of 
the  Union  army  were  invading  the  narrow- 
ing space  of  territory  left  to  raise  provi- 
sions on,  and  were  decoying  off  the  laborers 
and  destroying  and  laying  waste  the  coun- 
try through  which  they  marched ; every 
means  we  had  to  feed  either  our  army  or 
the  Northern  prisoners  was  disabled. 

My  brothers  wrote  home  (without  mur- 
mur or  discontent)  that  they  were  living 
the  greater  part  of  the  time  on  parched 
corn,  which  they  either  bought  or  begged  ; 
that  they  were  foraging  around  in  the 
country,  on  the  mountain  sides,  and  in  the 
valleys,  for  succulent  roots,  leaves,  and  ber- 
ries to  allay  the  pangs  of  hunger ; sassafras 
bushes  were  stripped  in  a trice  of  leaves, 
twigs,  and  bark,  and  eaten’  ravenously. 
They  wrote  that  sometimes  for  two  or 
three  months  they  never  saw  so  much  as  a 
slice  of  bacon,  and  then  perhaps  fora  week 
or  two  a rasher  of  bacon  the  size  of  a 
pocket-knife  would  be  issued  to  each  man 
of  their  regiment.  One  of  my  brothers 
once  drew  from  his  pocket,  when  asked 


134  A blockaded  family. 

about  his  slice  of  bacon,  the  pocket-knife 
which  he  brought  home  after  the  war  was 
over,  and  said  : “ It  is  a fact ; the  rasher  of 
bacon  was  no  longer,  and  about  just  as 
thick  and  wide  as  this  knife.” 

Such  a slice  they  held  over  the  fire  with 
bread  underneath  to  catch  the  drippings, 
so  as  to  lose  none.  A brother-in-law  of 
mine  told  me  that  he,  as  well  as  other 
soldiers  of  his  division,  lived  on  parched 
corn  most  of  the  time  ; sometimes  they 
had  roasting  ears,  either  roasted  in  the 
ashes  or  eaten  raw  ; that  if  they  had  money, 
they  would  buy  the  corn ; if  not,  beg  it ; 
and  at  times  they  would  be  so  crazed  with 
hunger  that  if  neither  money  nor  begging 
would  get  it,  they  would  steal  it.  At  first 
the  men  were  punished  for  stealing  some- 
thing to  eat,  but  at  last  the  sight  of  our  hol- 
low-eyed and  ragged,  emaciated  soldiers  ap- 
pealed so  to  the  sympathies  of  the  officers 
that  they  could  not  find  it  in  their  hearts* 
to  punish  their  men  for  trying  to  keep 
soul  and  body  together  with  pilfered  corn. 
Times  were  almost  as  hard  with  citizens  all 
over  the  South  the  last  year  of  the  war,  as 
with  our  soldiers.  Corn  was  twelve  and 
thirteen  dollars  per  bushel,  and  our  govern- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 35 

merit’s  pay  to  its  soldiers  was  only  eleven 
dollars  per  month  ; so  one  whole  month’s 
wages  would  not  quite  buy  a bushel  of  corn. 

What  could  be  grown  of  provisions,  in 
the  waning  of  our  Confederacy,  was  shared 
equally  and  willingly  between  our  soldiers 
and  their  Northern  prisoners.  I verily 
believe,  in  the  pressing  need  of  the  times 
the  prisoners  had  the  greater  share.  That 
was  little  enough,  to  be  sure,  but  in  that 
narrow  space  that  was  left  to  us  as  the 
Northern  army  advanced,  where  we  had 
to  hold  our  prisoners,  there  was  almost  no 
food  or  forage  to  be  had.  When  the  great 
“ book  of  remembrance  ” is  opened  to  view, 
on  its  pages  white  and  fair  the  North  will 
surely  see,  not  that  the  South  would  not, 
but  that  the  South  could  not,  better  feed 
the  Northern  prisoners,  with  all  the  mighty 
pressure  that  was  being  brought  to  bear 
against  us.  And  of  this  fact  I am  very 
sure  that,  had  there  been  an  exchange  of 
prisoners  between  the  North  and  South 
toward  the  last  days  of  our  Confederacy, 
such  as  there  was  at  first,  and  such  as 
the  whole  South  from  our  chief  executive 
down  to  the  humblest  citizen  was  begging 
and  praying  for,  as  much  for  the  unfortu- 


136  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

nate  prisoners  among  us,  as  to  have  our 
soldiers  in  the  ranks  of  our  army  again, 
there  never  would  have  been  an  Anderson- 
ville. 


XI. 


Leaving  a broken  home  circle,  I re- 
turned to  southern  Alabama,  where  every- 
thing was  moving  on  as  before  ; the  thump 
of  the  house-loom  and  the  whirring  of  the 
spinning-wheel  were  just  as  regular  in 
every  household  ; substitutes  and  expedi- 
ents were  still  being  devised  or  improved 
upon.  There  was  no  diminution  of  pa- 
tience or  perseverance,  and  we  still  felt, 
in  that  section,  none  of  the  effects  of  war, 
saving  the  privations  and  inconveniences 
to  which  allusion  has  been  made. 

We  still  had  our  merry  social  gather- 
ings. Nowand  then  a homespun  wedding 
would  occur,  in  which  the  bride  and  all 
who  were  bidden  would  be  in  homespun 
out  and  out.  We  were  invited  to  one  such 
marriage  in  our  settlement.  I wore  a 
homespun  dress  of  my  own  labor,  but  I 
neither  carded,  spun,  nor  wove  it.  I had 
become  quite  skillful  in  crocheting  capes, 
Vandykes,  shawls,  scarfs,  and  gloves,  and 


138  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

as  I had  had  more  than  enough  work  card- 
ing and  spinning  my  second  homespun 
dress,  I took  a neighbor  at  her  word,  when 
she  said  : “ I ’ll  give  you  a hank  of  thread 
to  crochet  me  a cape  like  yours.”  The 
hank  would  weave  one  yard  of  cloth,  and 
I could  crochet  two  capes  per  week,  be- 
sides discharging  my  school  duties  faith- 
fully. I thus  made  two  yards  of  cloth 
clear,  as  the  thread  was  furnished  for  what- 
ever piece  I crocheted.  More  or  less  in 
cuts  of  thread  were  paid,  according  to  the 
article  I furnished,  whether  shoulder-cape, 
Vandyke,  shawl,  or  gloves.  At  one  time  I 
had  so  many  hanks  of  homespun  thread 
that  they  were  quite  a weight  to  lift,  and 
I was  proud  of  them,  too,  so  proud  that 
if  a neighbor  came  to  spend  the  afternoon, 
I always  drew  forth  that  bunch  of  thread 
from  the  large  wardrobe  where  I kept  it 
hanging,  for  her  to  view.  Beside  having 
enough  for  another  full  homespun  dress, 
and  all  my  knitting  and  crocheting,  I sent 
to  my  mother  as  many  as  twenty  hanks, 
that  had  been  paid  me  for  knitting  and 
crocheting  shawls,  capes,  Vandykes,  and 
similar  articles  for  neighbors. 

I had  the  thread  for  the  dress  just  men- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 39 

tioned  dyed  blue  with  our  home-made  in- 
digo, and  a deep  garnet  with  a strong  tea 
of  pine-tree  roots.  One-half  was  dyed  blue, 
the  other  half  garnet.  In  the  warp  it  was 
four  blue,  and  four  garnet  threads.  Two 
shuttles  were  used,  one  with  a blue  quill 
of  thread,  the  other  with  a garnet  quill,  and 
the  result  was  a neat  and  simple  plaid.  I 
cut  the  buttons  out  of  a gourd  shell,  and 
covered  them  with  scraps  of  red  merino. 
We  always  took  pains  to  take  such  buttons 
off  when  our  homespuns  required  washing. 
When  the  stuff  had  been  starched  and 
ironed,  we  stitched  the  buttons  on  again. 

The  bride’s  dress  was  woven  a solid 
light  gray  color,  warp  and  woof  ; the  but- 
tons were  made  of  gray  thread,  over- 
cast with  white  thread.  Special  pains  had 
been  taken  with  some  white  cotton  flannel, 
three  rows  of  which,  about  three  inches 
wide,  were  placed  around  the  bottom  of 
the  skirt,  with  about  three  inches’  space 
between  each  row.  The  cuffs,  collar,  and 
shoulder  - cape  were  trimmed  with  this 
white  cotton  flannel ; and  from  only  across 
the  room  it  appeared  as  if  the  bride  wore  a 
real  fur-trimmed  dress,  and  the  effect  was 
graceful  in  the  extreme. 


140  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

Thread  was  often  spun,  both  wool  and 
cotton,  with  the  band  crossed,  so  as  to 
knit  and  crochet  with  single  thread.  The 
wheel-band  was  crossed  only  in  twisting 
thread  for  sewing  or  knitting  purposes. 
In  spinning  the  single  strand  the  band  was 
always  uncrossed,  unless  we  wanted  to 
knit  or  crochet  something  very  fine  and 
soft,  and  did  not  want  it  double  and  twisted. 
Then  it  was  spun  with  the  band  of  the 
wheel  crossed,  so  that  in  crocheting  or 
knitting  it  would  not  become  untwisted. 
The  cotton  thread  was  bleached  by  placing 
it  on  a line  in  the  yard,  where  it  hung  for 
two  or  three  weeks  in  the  sun  and  dew. 
It  was  a common  thing  to  see  long  rows  of 
hanks  of  cotton  thread  hanging  on  a line 
out  in  the  yards  or  gardens  of  all  the 
dwellers  of  our  settlement.  Such  thread 
would  bleach  almost  as  white  as  snow. 

Now  and  then  the  stern  fruits  of  war 
were  forced  upon  our  community  by  the 
home-coming  of  some  Confederate  soldier 
seriously  or  fatally  wounded  ; or  by  the 
arrival  of  the  corpse  of  some  one  of  our 
soldiers  whom  we  had  seen  quit  the  neigh- 
borhood in  the  flush  of  health  and  con- 
fident that  the  demands  of  the  South  would 
soon  be  allowed. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  141 

On  one  occasion  I wept  with  a widow 
bereft  of  her  only  son  and  child,  who  had 
died  in  a hospital  near  Richmond,  from 
wounds  received  in  battle.  She  told  us 
that  when  he  had  left  for  the  front,  in  the 
midst  of  her  terrible  grief,  her  last  words 
to  him  as  she  held  his  hand  had  been, 

“ My  son,  remember  it  is  just  as  near 
heaven  in  Virginia  as  it  is  here  in  our 
home  in  Alabama.”  Years  after  the  young 
man  had  been  buried,  I happened  one  Sun- 
day to  be  attending  divine  service  in  Ham- 
ilton, Georgia,  and  in  the  course  of  his 
sermon  the  Rev.  William  Boothe,  a godly 
Methodist  minister,  enforced  his  text  by 
relating  an  incident.  He  told  how  a young 
man  native  of  Alabama,  wounded  in  bat- 
tle, lay  dying  in  a hospital  near  Rich- 
mond. The  minister,  in  visiting  that  hos- 
pital, speaking  words  of  cheer  and  comfort 
to  the  sick,  was  touched  by  the  sight  of 
the  young  man,  who,  it  was  plain  to  see, 
was  in  immediate  danger  of  death.  Taking  ' 
the  hand  of  the  dying  boy,  Mr.  Boothe  had 
said  in  a kindly,  fatherly  way,  “ My  son,  is 
there  any  message  or  word  you  would  like 
me  to  send,  or,  perhaps,  that  I can  bear 
myself  to  your  people,  wherever  they  may 


142  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

live  ? ” A glad  smile  lighted  up  the  pale 
face  of  the  soldier,  who  quickly  replied, 
“ I am  so  thankful  that  some  kind  friend 
will  bear  a message  to  my  mother,  who  is 
a widow  living  down  in  Alabama.  I am 
her  only  son  and  child.  Please  say  to  her 
from  me  these  words  : ‘ Remember  that  it 
is  just  as  near  heaven  in  Virginia  as  it  is 
in  our  home  in  Alabama.’  There  has  never 
been  a night  on  the  tented  field,  or  when 
entering  into  battle,  when  those  words,  my 
mother’s  words,  and  spoken  as  I left  her, 
have  not  been  with  me.”  So  speaking,  the 
soldier’s  face  was  lighted  up  by  a seraphic 
smile,  and  he  expired. 

We  were  fighting  hard  at  home  to  keep 
the  upper  hand  of  the  difficulties  which 
hedged  us  in  ; we  were  working  and  fast- 
ing and  praying  that  victory  might  reward 
all  our  sacrifices  and  sufferings,  yet  day 
by  day  the  newspapers  brought  news  of 
defeat  after  defeat ; day  by  day  they  told 
'us  of  the  inexorable  advance  of  the  Federal 
troops ; day  by  day  the  conviction  strength- 
ened with  us  that,  struggle  as  we  would, 
we  were  on  the  losing  side,  and  ours  was 
to  go  down  to  history  as  “the  lost  cause.” 
Our  soldiers  were  living  on  parched  corn, 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  143 

as  they  had  been  for  a year  ; they  were 
going  into  battle  ragged  and  barefoot  and 
half-starved  — in  vain. 

What  a fearful  day  it  was  for  us,  when, 
in  April,  1865,  word  came  into  our  placid 
valley  that  the  Northern  army  was  almost 
at  our  doors  ! I could  not  begin  to  de- 
scribe our  chagrin  and  terror.  In  life  one 
is  likely  to  remember  always  the  exact  cir- 
cumstances under  which  the  first  shock  of 
bad  news  was  received.  I know  that  the 
first  tidings  of  the  approach  of  the  Yankee 
forces  came  to  me  as  I was  about  to  open 
the  gate  leading  out  on  to  the  public  road 

from  Mr.  G ’s  homestead.  I was  on 

my  way  to  the  school,  when  a man  rode 
up,  and  halting  an  instant  said,  “General 
Grierson  and  his  army  are  marching  from 
Mobile  to  Eufaula,  and  they  will  probably 
reach  Eufaula  to-night,  or  early  to-morrow 
morning ! ” 

As  Mr.  G lived  near  the  main  high- 

way, he  did  not  expect  to  escape  the  in- 
vading army.  Now,  it  seemed,  we  were  to 
be  awakened  from  the  even  tenor  of  our 
way,  perhaps  to  know  another  meaning  for 
“ hard  times.”  Fear  was  depicted  on  every 
face,  for  who  could  tell  but  that  the  mor- 


144  A blockaded  family. 

row’s  sun  would  cast  its  beams  upon  a heap 
of  smoking  ruins,  and  we  be  bereft  of  all 
the  property  we  had. 

Teaching  school  was  not  to  be  thought 
of  until  our  suspense  was  over.  The  blue 
heavens,  so  vast  and  serene,  seemed  no 
longer  to  clasp,  mildly  and  lovingly,  our 
quiet  home  in  all-embracing  arms,  nor  to 
smile  upon  us  in  peace  and  love.  “ Now,” 
thought  we,  “ we  shall  realize  in  part,  per- 
haps fully,  what  ‘ Old  Virginia  ’ and  the 
Border  States  have  passed  through  for  four 
years,  while  with  us,  in  the  blockaded  in- 
terior, all  has  been  so  quiet  and  undis- 
turbed.” 

How  vividly  I remember  that  day  of  sus- 
pense, as  the  courier  heralded  from  house 
to  house  his  unwelcome  message,  “ The 
Yankees  are  coming!”  The  explosion  of 
a bomb  in  each  one’s  yard  could  not  have 
created  greater  excitement.  Planters  has- 
tily fled  to  the  swamps  and  the  deep,  un- 
frequented woods,  with  their  stock  and 
valuables.  At  intervals  throughout  the 
day,  droves  of  cattle  and  hogs  were  driven 
past  my  employer’s  residence  to  hiding- 
places  in  the  woods  ; and  wagons  and  car- 
riages, filled  with  whatever  valuables  could 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  145 

be  quickly  gotten  together,  were  also  pass- 
ing by. 

It  was  amusing,  as  well  as  sad,  to  see  a 
feather-bed  protruding  at  least  a quarter  of 
its  length  from  a carriage  window.  In  our 
great  anxiety,  appearances  were  not  re- 
garded. The  single  thought  of  the  people 
was  to  protect  themselves  and  their  prop- 
erty as  expeditiously  and  securely  as  pos- 
sible. In  the  mean  time  we  were  confused 
and  distracted  by  conflicting  rumors.  At 
one  time  the  report  would  be,  “ The  army 
is  not  a mile  off  ; ” then  we  imagined  we 
heard  guns  firing.  Again  it  would  be, 
“ They  are  not  coming  this  way  at  all.” 
Then,  “ They  are  only  half  a mile  off,”' 
and  we  were  sure  we  saw  the  smoke  from 
some  burning  dwelling  or  gin-house. 

It  was  a day  of  unceasing  flurry  and  ex- 
citement, and  as  the  lengthening  shadows 
gave  warning  that  night  was  drawing  on, 
with  troubled  feelings  we  looked  from  face 
to  face,  for  no  one  was  left  to  meet  the 
Federal  army,  should  it  pass  by  on  our 
road,  save  women  and  children  and  the 

negro  slaves.  Mr.  G was  in  a deep 

swamp,  about  half  a mile  from  his  dwell- 
ing, with  all  the  stock  and  what  was  most 


146  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

valuable.  His  presence  with  us  would 
have  done  no  good,  for  if  the  enemy  had 
come,  he  might  have  been  hung  before 
our  eyes ; or  he  might  have  been  tortured 
to  make  him  tell  where  his  gold  and  silver 
were  hidden.  Men  were  so  treated  in 
many  instances. 

There  were  some  comical  places  thought 
of  in  which  to  hide  gold,  silver,  jewelry,  and 
other  valuables.  A lady  of  our  settlement 
wrapped  her  watch  and  chain,  bracelets, 
and  a valuable  breast  - pin,  together  with 
some  other  jewelry,  in  an  old  faded  rag, 
and  tossed  it  into  the  middle  of  a large 
rose-bush  in  her  front  yard.  There  it  re- 
mained secure,  although  the  house  and 
yard  were  filled  with  Yankee  soldiers,  who 
searched  the  house,  turning  up  beds  and 
mattresses,  pulling  the  clothing  out  of  the 
wardrobe  and  bureaus ; and  yet  that  rose- 
bush kept  its  secret. 

Another  young  woman  took  her  father’s 
bag  of  gold  and  silver,  and  ran  to  the  hen- 
house and  put  it  beneath  the  nest  of  a set- 
ting hen.  An  old  lady  put  all  her  jewelry 
in  a small  jar,  cemented  the  top  tightly  on, 
placed  it  in  an  old  bucket,  and  let  it  down 
into  her  well.  When  all  things  had  settled 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 47 

down  quietly,  and  it  was  safe  to  draw  the 
jar  from  the  well,  nothing  was  found  to  be 
soiled  or  injured  in  the  least.  Another 
filled  an  old  ash-hopper  with  bacon,  cov- 
ered it  with  a cloth,  put  ashes  over  that 
about  half  a foot  deep,  then  with  straw 
built  a hen’s  nest  or  two,  and  placed  some 
eggs  in  them ; and  of  course  the  Yankee 
soldiers  cared  nothing  for  that  insignificant 
ash-hopper  and  its  hen’s  nest. 

As  darkness  closed  in,  we  sat  with  folded 
hands  and  bated  breath,  listening  for  the 
tramp  of  the  mighty  Northern  host,  with 
the  unexpressed  thought,  “ Woe  is  me, 
that  I sojourn  in  Mesech,  that  I dwell  in 
the  tents  of  Kedar  ! ” In  the  midst  of  silent 
reveries  around  the  fire,  for  the  night  was 
chill,  and  a fire  had  been  kindled,  in  part 
to  dispel  the  gloom  and  dread  of  our  feel- 
ings, one  of  the  daughters  turned  to  her 
cousin  and  said,  “ Annie,  what  will  you  do 
if  the  Yankees  come?”  “Ooo-oo-o!” 
with  hands  upraised,  was  the  reply.  Then 
cousin  Annie  turned  to  her  cousin,  after  a 
long  pause,  and  asked,  “ Marie,  what  will 
you  do  if  they  come  ? ” “ Umph-mph-ph,” 

with  eyes  dilated,  was  Marie’s  reply.  Never 
a word  was  spoken  save  that  question, 


148  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

followed  by  an  inarticulate  exclamation. 
Finally  it  seemed  so  ludicrous  that  we  all 
broke  forth  into  merry  peals  of  laughter, 
which  served  as  a safety-valve  to  our  gen- 
uine depression. 

A married  daughter  of  Mr.  G ’s  was 

living  in  a small  cottage  near  her  father’s, 
built  so  that  he  might  have  his  daughter 
under  his  care  while  her  'husband  was 
away  in  our  army.  The  married  daughter 
did  not  feel  disposed  to  leave  her  house 
exposed,  but  was  too  much  alarmed  to 
remain  alone  that  night  with  her  two  small 
children.  So  she  urged  me  to  stay  with 
her,  as  her  mother  would  have  the  cousin 
and  two  older  daughters.  As  I was  go- 
ing down  the  colonnade  steps,  with  the 
two  young  girls,  aged  between  nine  and 

eleven,  Mrs.  G called  to  me,  “Miss 

A , if  the  Yankees  come,  I shall  be  sure 

to  send  Martha  (the  colored  nurse  girl)  to 
tell  you.”  “All  right,”  I replied,  “you’ll 
see  how  fast  I shall  get  to  you.” 

In  painful  apprehension  we  sat  long  on 
the  porch.  It  was  one  of  those  half-moon- 
lit nights,  so  calm  that  the  stillness  was  op- 
pressive. But  exhausted  nature  demanded 
her  tribute,  and  finally  we  sought  rest  from 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 49 

the  day’s  worry  and  suspense  in  sleep,  un- 
easy though  it  might  be.  God  only  knows 
how  fervent  and  plaintive  was  the  prayer 
that  ascended  that  April  night  in  southern 
Alabama,  from  hundreds  of  dwellings  peo- 
pled only  by  women,  children,  and  negro 
slaves.  As  I pillowed  my  head,  I called  up 
soul-comforting  passages  from  the  Bible, 
none  bringing  greater  solace  than,  “ The 
angel  of  the  Lord  encampeth  round  about 
them  that  fear  Him.”  The  ninety-first 
Psalm,  that  I had  committed  to  memory 
in  Sabbath-school,  now  came  to  mind  like 
a great  wave  of  consolation. 

I was  just  bordering  upon  the  edge  of 
sleep,  when  I was  suddenly  startled  by  a 
loud  and  hurried  knocking  on  the  door, 
and  immediately  recognized  the  voice  of 
the  negro  girl,  who  was  excitedly  crying 

out,  “ Miss  A , missis  say  come  down 

dar  quick,  de  Yankees  coming.”  I sprang 
with  a sudden  bound  into  the  middle  of 
the  room,  gathered  up  shoes  and  stockings 
in  one  hand,  dress  and  other  garments  in 
the  other,  and  dashed  out  in  the  shadowy 
night,  with  the  two  little  girls,  who  had  just 
as  hastily  left  their  bed,  and  now  clung 
on  either  side  of  me  in  their  long  white 


150  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

night-robes.  A dark  cloud  skurried  across 
the  moon  and  obscured  its  light  for  a mo- 
ment, making  the  night  darkish,  but  in 
another  instant  all  the  clouds  had  rolled 
by,  and  left  the  moon  clear,  so  that  the 
shadows  of  the  great  oaks  were  distinctly 
outlined,  quivering  beneath  our  feet  as  we 
flew  past.  One  of  the  little  girls  tripped, 
but  managed  to  gather  herself  up  quickly, 
without  ever  letting  go  of  me,  to  whom 
she  clung  with  the  grip  of  the  Old  Man  of 
the  Sea. 

As  we  reached  the  side  entrance  of  the 
main  yard,  and  passed  through  the  gate, 
we  found  the  yard  swarming  with  the 
negro  slaves ; passing  the  kitchen,  which 
was  detached  from  the  main  dwelling- 
house  (as  at  all  Southern  homes  in  those 
days),  Uncle  Ben  and  Aunt  Phillis  were 
standing  in  the  doorway.  They  craned 
their  necks,  shaded  their  eyes  with  their 
hands,  and  peered  forth  at  us  in  the  dark- 
ness, as  we  passed  swiftly  by.  “ Well 
I ’clare  fore  God  ” — The  rest  of  the 
sentence  was  lost  in  our  hurried  flight. 
We  jammed  against  Aunt  Jemimah,  the 
regular  washerwoman,  who  held  in  her 
hands  a pair  of  cotton-cards,  and  on  whose 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  151 

arm  was  hanging  a wisp  of  white  cotton 
rolls.  She  threw  up  her  arms  at  sight  of 
us,  the  wisp  of  rolls  floating  lightly  away 
on  the  night  breeze.  When  she  recog- 
nized us,  she  exclaimed,  “ Lors,  chilluns, 
I did  just  tink  you  was  ghosses.” 

We  entered  the  house  by  the  back  door, 
just  in  time  to  find  all  in  great  confusion, 
caused  by  a false  alarm.  The  home  guards, 
composed  of  old  men  and  young  boys  of 
the  county,  had  that  afternoon  disbanded 
in  the  city  of  Eufaula,  knowing  that  Gen- 
eral Grierson  would  arrive  that  night  or 
the  next  morning,  and  that  resistance 
would  be  useless.  So  they  deemed  discre- 
tion just  then  the  better  part  of  valor,  and 
here  they  were,  returning  home  by  the 
road  on  which  my  employer’s  plantation 
lay,  their  expectation  being  that  the  Fed- 
eral commander  would  march  his  column 
into  Eufaula  by  a road  on  the  other  side  of 
our  settlement. 

When  the  horses’  hoofs  struck  the 
bridge  that  spanned  a large  creek,  three 

or  four  hundred  yards  from  Mr.  G ’s 

mansion,  the  sounds,  borne  on  the  still 
night  air  with  startling  distinctness,  were 
naturally  mistaken  by  lone  women  and  chil- 


152  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

dren  for  the  advance  of  the  terrible  Yan- 
kees. When  the  Babel-like  confusion  had 
ceased  we  presented  a droll  tableau,  for, 
acting  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  no 
one  had  paused  to  think  of  personal  ap- 
pearance. 

When  asked  what  she  was  going  to  do 
with  the  cotton-cards  and  wisp  of  rolls, 
Aunt  Jemimah’s  reply  was,  “Oh,  lor  bless 
yer,  honeys,  I did  n’t  know  I had  ’em.”  It 
had  been  usual  to  allow  the  negroes  the 
use  of  the  wheels  and  cotton-cards,  and 
cotton  was  given  them,  in  case  they  wished 
to  spin  their  own  stocking-yarn  or  sewing- 
thread  at  night. 

The  negroes,  too,  had  been  expecting 
the  Yankee  army,  and  hearing  a great 
clashing  of  horses’  hoofs  on  the  bridge, 
thought  with  the  rest  of  us,  “ They  are 
coming  now.”  So  large  and  small  left  the 
“quarter”  and  came  over  to  “ Marster’s,” 
as  they  called  the  dwelling-house  and  yard, 
to  see  the  Federal  troops.  Perhaps  some 
may  have  come  with  the  design  of  going 
with  the  Yankees.  The  cottage  of  the 
married  daughter  and  the  negroes’  quarter 
were  about  equally  distant  from  my  em- 
ployer’s residence,  but  in  opposite  direc- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  153 

tions,  so  that  by  the  time  I had  reached 
the  yard  of  the  dwelling,  I found  myself  in 
a surging  mass  of  black  humanity. 

In  calling  to  mind  the  scenes  of  that 
night,  I have  often  thought  that  had  the 
Federal  army  really  come,  and  the  two  lit- 
tle girls  and  I dashed  into  view  in  our  long 
white  robes,  fleeing  as  if  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind,  we  should  have  caused  the  mov- 
ing host  to  halt.  And  oft  as  memory 
recalls  those  scenes  I rub  my  eyes  and 
ask,  “ Can  it  be  that  on  that  long  April 
night  in  1865,  while  the  Federal  army  was 
marching  into  Eufaula  by  another  road, 
we  women  and  children,  surrounded  by 
negro  slaves,  were  the  sole  occupants  of 
that  exposed  house  ?”  Yet  so  in  truth  it 
was.  We  felt  no  fear  of  the  slaves.  The 
idea  of  any  harm  happening  through  them 
never  for  one  instant  entered  our  minds. 

But  now,  not  for  my  right  hand  would  I 
be  situated  as  I was  that  April  night  of 
1865.  Now  it  would  by  no  means  be  safe, 
for  experience  is  showing  us  that  in  any 
section  where  the  negro  forms  any  very 
great  part  of  the  population,  white  men  or 
women  are  in  danger  of  murder,  robbery, 
and  violence. 


XII. 


When  the  morning  came  after  that  mis- 
erable night,  another  courier  passed  through 
our  settlement,  ending  our  state  of  uncer- 
tainty with  the  information  that  the  North- 
ern army  was  in  Eufaula.  We  had  been 
entirely  passed  by,  after  all  our  tumult 
and  apprehension.  How  thankful  we  were, 
Heaven  only  knows  ! 

Mr.  G came  in  towards  night  with 

all  his  stock,  saying  he  hoped  he  should 
never  have  to  spend  another  night  in  that 
uncanny  dark  swamp,  with  its  tall  trees  all 
festooned  with  gray  moss,  almost  reaching 
to  the  ground,  and  swaying  to  and  fro,  as 
a shiver  of  moaning  wind  would  stir  the 
air.  The  hooting  of  owls,  and  croaking 
of  frogs  would  sound  at  intervals,  the  un- 
rest and  stamping  of  the  tied-up  stock,  to- 
gether with  the  terrible  suspense  of  how  it 
would  fare  with  his  family  and  his  belong- 
ings, if  the  opposing  army  should  pass  his 
plantation,  made  it  anything  but  pleasant, 
it  may  well  be  imagined. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I55 

Yet  in  our  great  rejoicing  that  we  had 
been  passed  by,  our  hearts  went  out  in 
sympathy  to  our  less  fortunate  neighbors, 
many  of  whom  were  despoiled  of  every- 
thing valuable.  I knew  families  that  were 
bereft  of  everything  ; who  had  not  so  much 
left  as  would  furnish  one  meal  of  vic- 
tuals ; whose  dwelling-houses,  gin-houses, 
and  bales  of  cotton  were  all  left  in  smoking 
ruin.  In  many  instances  women  and  chil- 
dren would  have  to  stand  by  helpless,  and 
see  their  trunks,  bureaus,  and  wardrobes 
kicked  open.  Whatever  struck  the  soldier’s 
fancy  was  appropriated  ; to  the  rest  of  the 
contents,  as  apt  as  not,  a match  would 
be  applied,  and  the  labor  of  years  would 
swirl  up  in  smoke. 

Amid  this  pillage  and  plunder,  some  ab- 
surd incidents  now  and  then  occurred,  one 
or  two  of  which  I will  mention. 

Many  of  the  planters,  large  and  small, 
had  turned  their  attention  to  stock-raising, 
among  other  industries  needful  and  en- 
forced by  the  blockade.  One  man  said, 
as  bacon  was  so  scarce  and  high  priced,  he 
was  going  to  raise  a herd  of  goats  to  help 
along.  He  got  a few  to  begin  with,  and 
as  he  had  a good  range  of  piney  woods  for 


156  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

them  to  graze  in,  he  soon  had  a fine  herd. 
These  the  invading  army  passed  by  as  ut- 
terly unworthy  of  their  attention. 

When  the  war  closed  there  were  some 
fine  young  colts,  two  and  three  years  old, 
coming  on  in  the  South.  A planter  who 
lived  near  us  had  several,  which  I remem- 
ber were  named  after  Lee,  “ Stonewall  ” 
Jackson,  and  other  popular  leaders.  This 
planter  was  very  fond  of  his  young  daugh- 
ter, who  usually  accompanied  him  when  he 
walked  out  to  his  pasture-lot.  He  used  to 
say  to  the  little  girl,  when  admiring  his 
young  colts,  “These  are  papa’s  fine  stock.” 
When  the  Federal  army  came,  it  so  hap- 
pened that  this  planter  got  the  news  only 
in  time  to  be  just  disappearing  down  a hill 
near  his  house,  with  all  his  horses  and 
mules,  as  the  Yankees  approached ; his 
young  colts  being  left  in  their  pasture. 
Finding  no  stock  in  the  lot  or  outbuildings, 
the  soldiers  threatened  to  shoot  a little  ne- 
gro boy  who  was  in  the  yard,  if  he  did  not 
tell  them  where  the  stock  were  hidden. 
Hearing  the  threat,  the  planter’s  daughter 
said,  in  the  innocence  of  her  heart,  “ Papa’s 
fine  stock  is  over  there,”  pointing  to  the 
field  where  the  young  colts  were  grazing. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I 57 

Away  dashed  the  soldiers,  sure  of  a rich 
prize.  Meantime  the  planter  had  had  time 
to  flee  with  his  stock  to  a secure  hiding- 
place,  chosen  for  the  occasion  which  had 
now  arrived. 

Great  was  the  surprise  of  the  soldiers, 
after  making  a sweep  of  the  field,  to  find 
only  a few  small  colts  quietly  feeding,  un- 
mindful that  they  were  “ papa’s  fine  stock.” 
The  soldiers  returned  furious  with  disap- 
pointment, and  played  sad  havoc  with  all 
the  buildings,  burned  the  gin-house  and 
barns,  ransacked  the  dwelling  from  cellar 
to  attic,  broke  up  furniture,  and  appro- 
priated whatever  was  valuable  that  could 
be  easily  carried  with  them.  It  really 
seemed  as  if  the  wreck  was  a greater  blow 
than  the  loss  of  the  stock  would  have  been, 
and  for  a few  days  there  was  sore  grief 
in  that  household.  But  they  soon  roused 
themselves,  on  reflection  that  they  yet 
had  their  stock  left  to  plow  the  already 
planted  crop,  and  a roof  over  their  heads, 
while  many  were  left  without  stock  to  tend 
their  crop,  or  house  to  rest  in. 

A disabled  soldier  of  our  Confederacy, 
who  lived  in  the  southern  part  of  Ala- 
bama, near  the  Choctawhatchee  River, 


158  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

with  his  wife  and  five  small  children  was 
visiting  relatives  in  our  neighborhood. 
They  had  driven  through  in  their  own 
carriage,  to  which  two  fine  horses  were 
hitched.  They  had  packed  in  their  car- 
riage what  was  most  useful  and  valuable 
to  them  as  wearing  apparel,  all  their  valu- 
ables in  jewelry  and  plate,  bed  - quilts, 
counterpanes,  a feather  - bed' and  pillows, 
bandboxes,  hatboxes,  trunks,  and  many 
other  articles  of  value.  I saw  the  carriage 
unpacked,  and  stood  amazed  that  such  a 
quantity  of  stuff  could  be  stowed  in  such 
a small  space.  They  had  been  careful  to 
take  all  the  best  belongings  of  their  house, 
because  it  was  expected  that  the  Federal 
army  would  come  directly  through  their 
settlement,  as  they  were  not  far  from  Mo- 
bile, and  on  the  route  to  Eufaula.  In  our 
neighborhood,  it  was  not  believed  at  first 
that  the  enemy  would  find  us,  hence  they 
left  their  own  home  to  visit  the  relatives 
who  lived  near  us.  But  rumors  began  to 
fly  thick  and  fast  when  it  was  known  posi- 
tively that  General  Grierson  was  on  the 
march  from  Mobile,  and  then  it  was  be- 
lieved that  he  would  surely  come  by  on 
our  road. 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  I 59 

So  the  disabled  Confederate  soldier  and 
his  family  packed  their  carriage  again,  and 
left  our  settlement.  They  made  for  the 
public  road  which,  according  to  their  the- 
ory, would  be  the  one  General  Grierson 
would  be  least  likely  to  choose  to  march 
into  Eufaula  by.  They  proceeded  seven 
or  eight  miles  undisturbed  by  anything, 
and  were  congratulating  themselves  on  be- 
ing so  fortunate  as  to  flank  the  enemy, 
when  just  as  they  turned  a bend  of  the 
road  that  led  into  another,  alack -a -day! 
there  was  one  moving  mass  of  “ blue,”  up 
the  road  and  down  the  road,  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  see. 

They  had  driven  altogether  unexpect- 
edly right  into  the  midst  of  the  Yankee 
soldiers.  I am  sorry  to  say  they  were 
called  to  a halt  immediately;  their  horses 
were  cut  (not  unhitched)  from  the  carriage. 
The  wife  begged  to  be  spared  the  horses, 
but  finding  pleading  of  no  avail,  she  let 
loose  her  tongue  in  such  a way  that  one  of 
the  soldiers  raised  his  gun  and  threatened 
to  shoot  her  if  she  did  not  keep  quiet. 
She  stood  fair  and  fearless,  and  told  him  to 
shoot.  He  was  not  so  heartless,  however, 
as  to  put  his  threat  into  execution.  Noth- 


160  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

ing  was  taken,  except  the  horses.  The 
wife  and  children  had  to  remain  in  the 
open  pine  barrens,  while  the  husband 
walked  several  miles  before  he  could  get 
assistance  to  drag  the  carriage  to  the  near- 
est house.  And  after  all,  when  this  man 
reached  his  own  home  again,  he  found  that 
it  had  not  been  molested,  inasmuch  as  the 
Federal  army  had  passed  him  by,  by  sev- 
eral miles.  But  one  could  never  tell,  in 
the  midst  of  innumerable  conflicting  asser- 
tions, what  it  was  best  to  do. 

About  six  months  before  General  Robert 
E.  Lee’s  surrender,  business  called  Mr. 

G to  Columbus,  Georgia,  and  while 

there  he  found  a gentleman  so  embar- 
rassed by  debt  that  he  was  forced  to  sell 

some  of  his  slaves.  Mr.  G bought 

two  young  negro  men,  Jerry  and  Miner  by 
name,  paying  six  thousand  five  hundred 

dollars  apiece  for  them.  Mr.  G would 

always  look  on  the  bright  side,  and  would 
never  give  in  to  the  idea  that  the  South 
would,  or  could,  be  conquered,  — high- 
toned,  generous  old  Virginia  gentleman 
that  he  was  ! What  a laugh  we  all  had 
when  he  came  home  and  said,  “ Well,  I ’ve 
got  two  negroes  now,  who  must  be  good 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 6 1 

for  something  if  the  price  has  anything  to 
do  with  them  ; I 've  paid  thirteen  thousand 
for  two  young  negro  boys.”  His  amiable 
and  gentle  wife  rebuked  him  for  his  indis- 
cretion in  buying  negroes  at  that  time,  as 
we  believed  that  they  would  soon  have 
an  opportunity  of  leaving,  if  they  chose  to 
do  so.  But  he  pooh-poohed  her,  saying, 
“ Wait  till  you  get  to  the  bridge  before  you 
cross  the  river.” 

In  a very  short  time  the  surrender  came  ; 
the  South  was  overrun  by  Federal  soldiers  ; 
and  I smile  even  now,  when  I recall  one 
morning  at  breakfast,  when  Aunt  Phillis 
came  in  from  the  kitchen  to  the  dining- 
room, with  a waiter  of  hot  biscuits  just 
from  the  oven,  — for  no  one  thought  of 
finishing  breakfast  without  a relay  of  hot 
biscuits  toward  the  middle  or  end  of  the 
meal,  — and  said,  as  she  handed  the  bis- 
cuits round,  “Jerry  and  Miner  done  gone 
back  to.  Columbus  ! ” I marveled  much 

at  Mr.  G ’s  philosophical  remark,  as 

he  paused  with  cup  suspended,  “ Humph  ; 
that ’s  the  dearest  nigger  hire  I ever  paid  ! 
Six  thousand  five  hundred  dollars  apiece 
for  six  months,”  sipping  his  coffee  and  pla- 
cing the  cup  back  in  the  saucer. 


1 62  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

I looked  at  him  closely.  There  was  not 
even  the  tinge  of  bitterness  in  his  remark, 
and  I thought,  “ Here  is  philosophy  that 
would  shame  the  Stoics.”  It  had  not  been 
a twelvemonth  back  that,  when  it  became 
necessary  for  him  to  leave  the  plantation 
for  a day  only,  he  had  given  orders  that 
Jim  be  well  cared  for;  for  if  Jim  died,  he 
would  lose  more  than  a thousand  dollars 
in  gold.  Now  he  had  lost  in  all  about 
eighty  or  one  hundred  thousand  dollars,  all 
gold  value,  gone  like  the  lightning’s  flash, 
— who  can  doubt  but  that  a kind  Provi- 
dence tempered  the  resignation  with  which 
we  met  the  inevitable  ? 

I remained  some  years  after  the  war  in 
that  settlement,  and  never  a bitter  or  harsh 
word,  no,  not  one,  did  I ever  hear  my  em- 
ployer utter  against  the  opposing  army, 
or  section  of  States,  that  had  caused  all 
the  turn-round  of  affairs  in  the  South; 
that,  metaphorically  speaking,  had  caused 
riches  to  take  to  themselves  wings  and  fly 
away. 

The  same  cannot  be  said  of  all  the  peo- 
ple of  the  South,  but  it  is  pleasing  to  think 
that  all  can  now  recall  the  history  of  those 
days,  when  the  opposing  army  was  march- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  163 

ing  through  the  South,  leaving  a desert 
waste  behind  them,  without  feeling  the 
bitterness  we  then  felt,  standing  in  the 
midst  of  our  desolation  ; and  God  knows 
that  we  give  heart  and  hand  in  cordial 
welcome  to  the  soldiers  of  that  Northern 
host  which  so  despoiled  us,  as  well  as  to  the 
people  of  the  Northern  States  when  they 
make  choice,  as  many  are  now  doing,  of 
our  sunny  clime  for  their  own  home. 


XIII. 


The  return  of  our  soldiers  after  the  sur- 
render, in  their  worn  and  ragged  gray,  as 
they  tramped  home  by  twos,  threes,  and 
sometimes  in  little  squads  of  half  a dozen 
or  more,  was  pitiable  in  the  extreme. 

Some  were  entirely  without  shoes  or 
hats  ; others  had  only  an  apology  for  shoes 
and  hats.  They  were  coming  home  with 
nothing  ; and  we  could  almost  say,  coming 
home  to  nothing  ; for  many  verily  found, 
when  they  reached  the  spot  that  had  been 
to  them  a happy  home,  nothing  save  a 
heaped  - up  mass  of  ruins  left  to  them. 
Often  as  I sit  in  the  twilight  and  drift 
back  into  the  past,  it  is  not  easy  to  re- 
strain tears,  as  memory  views  those  sol- 
diers in  their  worn  gray,  marching  home, 
sad  and  depressed,  with  the  cause  they 
had  so  warmly  espoused,  lost. 

Though  not  coming  rejoicing,  as  did 
the  Athenians  and  Spartans  from  the  bat- 
tle of  Plataea,  they  were  just  as  dear  to 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  165 

the  hearts  of  their  kindred  at  their  ruined 
homes,  as  if  they  had  come  marching  in 
triumph,  with  olive  - wreaths  encircling 
their  brows. 

Need  there  be  wonder  if,  fora  few  weeks, 
it  seemed  as  though  we  wrere  petrified,  — 
scarcely  knowing  which  way  to  turn,  to  re- 
store order  out  of  such  chaos  ! Another 
day  of  fasting  and  prayer  was  called  in  our 
adversity  that  our  spirits  might  be  tem- 
pered to  bear  the  result.  But  our  thoughts 
soon  turned  resolutely  from  the  gloomy 
picture,  the  more  readily  when  we  re- 
membered how  the  South  had  met  emer- 
gencies during  the  war,  until  she  was  so 
environed  and  crippled  by  opposing  forces 
that  she  had  to  yield.  The  same  energy, 
perseverance,  and  economy,  with  the  help 
of  an  overruling  Providence,  would  yet 
make  the  South  smile  with  peace  and 
plenty. 

Our  returned  soldiers  lost  no  time  in 
making  themselves  useful  in  every  sphere 
of  honorable  work  that  then  opened.  Many 
of  those  who  returned  in  April  planted  corn 
and  cotton,  late  as  it  was,  and  made  fair 
crops  of  both.  There  was  great  bother 
for  awhile  as  to  plow  stock,  for  most  of 


1 66  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

our  valuable  animals  had  been  carried  off 
by  the  invading  army. 

Three  brothers  whom  I knew,  natives  of 
Georgia,  owned  not  one  foot  of  land  nor  an 
animal  of  any  kind,  when  the  war  closed. 
They  reached  home  among  the  first  of  our 
returning  soldiers.  They  rented  a good 
piece  of  farming  land,  managed  to  get  an 
ox  and  an  old  broken-down  army  mule,  and 
set  to  work  in  earnest  on  their  rented 
land.  They  “ put  in  ” every  hour  of  the 
sun,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  light  of 
the  moon.  Neighboring  farmers  said  that 
at  whatever  hour  of  the  night  you  passed 
where  the  brothers  farmed,  if  the  moon 
shone  you  would  hear  them  “gee-hawing,” 
plowing  their  crop  at  night,  or  the  clash- 
ing of  their  hoes  in  their  corn,  cotton,  or 
peas.  They  are  now  prosperous  farmers, 
owning  broad  acres  of  land  and  fine  stock. 
Hundreds  of  similar  cases  might  be  pointed 
out. 

When  our  soldiers  returned  we  were  al- 
ways deeply  interested  in  hearing  them  re- 
count, when  we  met  them  at  social  gather- 
ings at  some  neighbor’s  house,  the  straits 
to  which  they  were  reduced  toward  the 
last  days  of  the  war,  and  on  the  home 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 67 

march  after  the  surrender.  A brother-in- 
law  of  mine,  who  became  bare  as  to  pants, 
and  had  no  way  of  getting  any  in  his  then 
distressed  state,  had  recourse  to  his  army 
blanket,  and  having  no  scissors  with  which 
to  cut  the  blanket,  he  used  his  pocket- 
knife  for  that  purpose.  He  sharpened  a 
stick  with  his  knife  to  make  holes  in  each 
half  of  the  blanket,  which  he  tied  up  sep- 
arately with  the  raveling  of  the  blanket: 
making  each  leg  of  the  pants  separately. 
They  were  tied  around  his  waist  with  a 
string.  He  managed  to  get  on  for  quite  a 
while  with  his  blanket  pants,  but  met  a 
comrade  more  fortunate  than  the  rest  of 
the  soldiers  of  our  cause,  in  that,  beside 
having  a passable  pair  of  pants,  he  had 
rolled  up  under  his  arm  a half  worn  os- 
naburg  pair  of  pants,  also.  These  my 
brother-in-law  bought  of  him  for  four  hun- 
dred dollars.  He  wore  them  home  after 
the  surrender,  and  that  same  half -worn, 
four-hundred-dollar  pair  of  osnaburg  pants 
did  service  for  some  time  on  the  farm  af- 
ter the  war. 

When  one  of  my  brothers,  who  was 
taken  prisoner  at  Appomattox  during  the 
last  days  of  fighting  in  Virginia,  and  who 


1 68  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

was  sent  to  Point  Lookout  in  Maryland, 
was  paroled  with  many  others,  and  sent 
by  steamer  to  Savannah,  Georgia,  he  and 
they  had  to  “foot  it”  the  greater  part 
of  the  way  to  Columbus,  Georgia,  where 
most  of  them  lived,  inasmuch  as  the  Fed- 
eral army  had  torn  up  the  railroads  and 
burnt  all  the  bridges.  They  were  all  more 
or  less  lacking  as  to  clothing,  but  one  of 
the  comrade’s  clothing  was  in  such  bad 
plight  that  he  could  scarcely  make  a de- 
cent appearance  on  the  road,  much  less 
appear  in  his  own  settlement.  As  they 
were  nearing  Columbus,  they  stopped  and 
advised  together  as  how  to  overcome  the 
deficiency  in  their  comrade’s  wardrobe. 
One  of  the  soldiers  happened  to  have  a 
silver  dime  (a  thing  quite  rare  in  those 
days),  which  he  gave  his  needy  comrade  to 
buy  a pair  of  pants  with.  They  had  the 
good  luck  to  get  a half  worn  pair  of  jeans 
pants  at  a small  farm-house  in  the  piney- 
woods,  for  the  ten  cents,  and  these  the 
soldier  wore  home. 

Five  or  six  years  after  the  war,  these 
two  comrades,  the  one  who  had  given  the 
silver  dime  and  the  one  who  had  bought 
the  pants  with  it,  met  in  Columbus,  Geor- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 69 

gia.  They  had  been  together  in  camp,  in 
prison,  and  on  that  long  walk  home  from 
Savannah  to  Columbus,  through  the  grand 
stretches  of  piney-woods,  covered  with  the 
green  luxuriant  wire-grass  of  southwestern 
Georgia,  and  they  recognized  each  other 
immediately.  One  drew  from  his  pocket 
a crisp  five-dollar  bill  and  handed  it  to  the 
giver  of  the  silver  piece,  saying,  “Take 
this,  old  fellow,  in  grateful  acknowledg- 
ment for  that  silver  dime  I bought  those 
pants  with  ; for  I might  almost  say,  ‘ I was 
naked  and  ye  clothed  me.’  ” 


XIV. 


Just  as  soon  as  the  railroads  could  be 
repaired  and  bridges  builded  anew,  I made 
haste  to  get  to  my  father’s  again  to  find 
how  all  had  gone  with  them  while  our 
foes  were  marching  through  Georgia.  I 
had  tried  for  three  months  or  more  to  get 
a letter  or  message  of  some  sort  to  them, 
as  they  had  to  me,  but  all  communication 
for  the  time  being  was  completely  broken 
up.  I had  spent  many  sad  hours  think- 
ing of  those  at  home,  and  was  almost  afraid 
to  hear  from  them  ; but  as  soon  as  a train 
ran  to  Columbus,  I ventured  forth. 

I had  traveled  over  the  same  road  time 
and  again,  on  my  way  to  and  from  home, 
but  now  as  I beheld  the  ruins  of  grim-vis- 
aged  war,  whichever  way  I cast  my  eyes,  I 
must  confess  to  a somewhat  rebellious  and 
bitter  feeling.  There  are  moments  in  the 
experience  of  every  human  being  when  the 
heart  overflows  like  the  great  Egyptian 
river,  and  cannot  be  restrained.  “O  thou 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  171 

great  God  of  Israel  ! ” I cried,  “ why  hast 
thou  permitted  this  dire  calamity  to  befall 
us  ? Why  is  it  that  our  homes  are  so  de- 
spoiled ? ” And  I marveled  not  at  the 
captive  Hebrews’  mournful  plaint,  as  by 
the  rivers  of  Babylon  they  hung  their 
harps  on  the  willows. 

As  the  train  slowed  up  on  the  Ala- 
bama side  of  the  Chattahoochee  River,  I 
looked  eagerly  over  to  the  opposite  bank, 
where  the  home  of  my  father  was  situated. 
For  a few  seconds  my  pulse  must  have 
ceased  to  throb,  as  I beheld  the  ruins  of 
the  city  of  Columbus.  With  others  I 
took  my  seat  in  an  omnibus  and  was 
driven  to  the  river’s  edge,  there  to  await 
the  coming  of  the  ferry-boat  which  had 
been  built  since  all  the  bridges  on  the  river 
had  been  burned  by  the  hostile  army. 
The  scene  seemed  so  unreal  that  like 
Abou  Hassan,  the  caliph  of  fiction,  I was 
thinking  of  biting  my  fingers  to  make  sure 
I was  really  awake.  Had  I not  had  my 
coin  in  my  hand  to  pay  the  ferryman,  I 
should  have  imagined  we  were  all  shades, 
flitting  about  on  the  shore  of  the  Styx  ! 

In  musing  silence,  I could  but  say,  O 
swift-flowing  Chattahoochee,  is  it  thus  I 


172  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

behold  thee  ? Thou  flowest  in  almost  pris- 
tine loveliness.  Where  are  your  huge 
bridges,  that  linked  the  green  hills  of  Ala- 
bama with  the  beautiful  city  of  cottages 
and  flowers  ? Where  are  the  cotton  mills 
and  machine-shops  that  lined  your  banks, 
— mills  which  from  early  morn  until  the 
sun  set  sent  forth  an  incessant  hum  ? Is  it 
thus  that  I behold  thee,  city  of  my  fathers  ? 

My  reverie  was  broken  when  the  ferry- 
boat reached  her  landing  ; but  things  all 
still  seemed  so  strange  that  I could  scarcely 
believe  I was  not  dreaming.  I realized 
everything  better  when  I saw  soldiers  in 
blue  moving  hither  and  thither.  I had 
heard  while  on  the  train,  how  General 
Willson  had  ravaged,  pillaged,  and  burnt,  as 
he  passed  through  Alabama.  Here  were 
his  soldiers  who  had  laid  Columbus  in 
ruins  ; here  were  they  of  whom  I had  been 
told  that  their  route  from  Columbus  to  the 
city  of  Macon,  one  hundred  miles,  could  be 
plainly  traced  by  the  curling  smoke  arising 
from  burning  dwellings,  gin-houses,  barns, 
bridges,  and  railroad  ties. 

I was  not  long  in  getting  to  my  father’s 
after  I had  left  the  city  of  Columbus.  And 
there  was  a joyous  surprise  in  every  re- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 73 

spect,  for  nothing  had  been  disturbed  at 
his  residence  save  some  corn,  fodder,  and 
other  food,  which  had  been  appropriated 
by  raiding  soldiers.  I found  both  of  my 
brothers  home.  The  one  who  had  been 
carried  to  Point  Lookout  had  arrived  only 
two  days  before.  The  one  who  had  been 
taken  prisoner  about  three  months  before 
the  surrender  managed  to  make  his  es- 
cape the  night  following  the  day  he  was 
captured.  It  was  a dark,  sleety  night, 
my  brother  said,  and  he  had  found  it  quite 
easy  to  elude  the  sentinel.  First  he  went, 
as  he  supposed,  about  a mile  from  the 
camp ; then  he  lay  down  on  the  frozen 
ground  with  his  army  blanket,  not  daring 
to  light  a fire,  for  fear  of  recapture.  When 
the  sun  rose  he  took  his  bearings,  and 
began  his  long  tramp  for  home.  This 
journey  had  occupied  many  weeks,  as  all 
traveling  had  to  be  done  at  night,  and 
often  he  was  in  imminent  danger  of  being 
recaptured,  as  the  whole  country  through 
which  he  was  passing  was  filled  with  Fed- 
eral cavalrymen.  Creeks  and  rivers  had 
to  be  waded  or  swum  ; deep  and  almost 
impenetrable  swamps  had  to  be  passed. 
Once  in  the  thick  woods  he  had  come  near 


174  A blockaded  family. 

running  into  what  he  supposed  to  be  a de- 
serters’ camp,  from  the  surroundings  he 
descried  by  the  pale  glare  of  the  pine-knot 
camp-fire,  but  what  really  was  a camp  of 
Northern  soldiers.  He  subsisted  on  roots 
and  leaves,  sometimes  calling  at  a house 
after  dark  to  beg  a few  ears  of  corn,  which 
he  parched  and  a,te  ; sometimes  he  enjoyed 
a rare  dessert  in  the  berries  of  the  haw- 
thorn bush. 

One  blustering  March  night,  just  as  the 
clock  had  told  the  hour  of  two,  the  watch- 
dog at  my  father’s  was  heard  baying  furi- 
ously at  the  front  gate.  There  was  some 
one  at  the  gate  speaking  to  the  dog,  as  if 
trying  to  quiet  him.  My  father  arose, 
opened  the  door,  and  when  he  could  make 
his  voice  heard,  he  called  out,  “ What ’s 

wanting?”  “It’s  N ‘Drive’  (the 

dog’s  name)  won’t  let  me  come  in.”  At 

the  name  “N ,”  our  mother  sprang 

from  the  bed  with  a loud  and  joyful  shout 
that  he  who  had  been  mourned  as  dead 
was  alive  and  home  again.  My  sisters,  who 
were  sleeping  up-stairs,  were  also  aroused 
by  the  furious  barking  of  the  dog.  They 
arose  and  raised  the  window-sash  just  in 
time  to  hear,  “It’s  N .”  Their  win- 


A BLOCKADED  FAMILY.  1 75 

dovv  dropped  like  a flash  of  lightning,  and 
then  such  a getting  down-stairs  as  there 
was ! One  or  two  chairs  were  knocked 
over  in  the  scramble  for  the  head  of  the 
staircase,  and  one  toppled  the  whole  flight 
of  steps,  making  a great  racket,  in  the 
middle  of  the  night,  as  it  thumped  the 
steps  one  by  one.  The  candle,  which  some 
one  had  managed  to  light  while  the  sash 
was  being  raised,  was  let  fall  when  about  in 
the  middle  of  the  flight  of  steps,  and  in  the 
then  utter  darkness  one  of  my  sisters  stum- 
bled over  the  chair  that  had  preceded  her  to 
the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  and  all  came  pell- 
mell  into  the  dark  hall.  My  brother  told 
me  afterward  that  he  could  not  move  for 
some  time,  he  was  so  tightly  pinioned  when 
finally  taken  to  his  mother’s  heart. 

What  a change  from  1861,  when  all  were 
so  buoyant  and  full  of  fiery  patriotism,  with 
never  a thought  of  being  overcome  ! Now 
our  cause  was  lost,  all  our  homes  more  or 
less  despoiled,  the  whole  South  seemingly 
almost  hopelessly  ruined,  every  little  town 
and  village  garrisoned  by  the  troops  who 
had  overcome  us  by  great  odds, 
x Yet  after  all  our  great  and  sore  afflic- 


176  A BLOCKADED  FAMILY. 

tions,  I found  only  cheerfulness  and  Chris- 
tian resignation  at  the  end  of  these  troub- 
lous war  times,  and  the  hope  that  we  might 
yet  rise  above  our  misfortunes. 

In  closing,  I must  say  that  I know  that 
the  people  of  the  Southern  States  are  now 
loyal  to  the  Union  ; their  reverence  for 
the  stars  and  stripes  is  strong  and  pure  ; 
and  it  pierces  like  a sword,  our  ever  being 
taunted  and  distrusted.  Accepting  all  the 
decisions  of  the  war,  we  have  built  and 
planted  anew  amid  the  ruins  left  by  the 
army  who  were  the  conquerors.  We  are 
still  poor  ; but  we  believe  firmly  that  in 
our  new  life,  under  God,  we  are  destined 
to  a brilliant  career  of  prosperity  and 
glory.  Come,  happy  day  ! 


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